


Annabeth Chase and the Lighting Thief

by malguino



Series: Annabeth Chase and the Olympians [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Book 1: The Lightning Thief (Percy Jackson), Book Series: Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), Demigods, Greek Mythology - Freeform, PJO, POV Annabeth Chase, annabeth chase and the lighting thief, percyjacksonandtheheroesofolympus, rickriodran
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 51,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27370387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malguino/pseuds/malguino
Summary: Percy Jackson and the Lighting Thief from Annabeth's perspective![1/5] the first book in my Annabeth Chase series!all credit goes to Rick Riordan himself for creating the characters and the plot!--------------------------------------12 year old Annabeth Chase is able to finally go out into the real world to test her skills, will her skills be up to par or will they cost her life?
Relationships: percabeth - Relationship
Series: Annabeth Chase and the Olympians [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140185
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45





	1. A Dead Boy Ruins My Day

My life is filled with death, sadness and betrayal, not in that order.

I'm a demigod. Or half-blood, whichever you prefer.

If you're reading this because you think you might be a half-blood, my advice is: close this book right now.

Believe whatever lie your mom or dad told you about your birth, and try to lead a normal life.

Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways.

If you're a normal kid, reading this because you think it's fiction, great. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe that none of this ever happened.

But if you recognize yourself in these pages – if you feel something stirring inside – stop reading immediately. You might be one of us. And once you know that, it's only a matter of time before they sense it too, and they'll come for you.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

My name is Annabeth Chase.

I'm twelve years old, and my life is... different from your average one. I've lived at a summer camp for five years now. Camp Half-Blood isn't your average summer camp, let me tell you that. Does your summer camp have a lava wall? I didn't think so.

You might be wondering where my parents are, or why they'd let me live at a summer camp, the truth is they don't care about me. And I don't care about them either.

You could say my life is messed up, but it's the same with every other half-blood, so I shouldn't complain. It's hard being half-mortal and half god.

I should probably back up. My mom is Athena. Yes, the Greek goddess of war strategy fell in love with my mortal dad and then poof, I showed up at my dad's house. Anyway, my life was pretty boring until today.

I did the same routine I always did, I woke up with my siblings, sat on the dock, shoeless, reading. Well, trying to read at least. I have dyslexia and ADHD, another thing that comes with being a half-blood. Demigods have dyslexia because our minds are hardwired for ancient Greek, and ADHD, which are our battle reflexes. In a fight, they keep us alive.

After my failed reading session I'd go to whatever activity my cabin is stationed for, and today it was sword-fighting. I didn't participate much due to the fact that I couldn't focus at all today.

I disarmed Malcolm, my brother, with my dagger pointing at his throat in a few short seconds. Usually fighting with swords would be better, but I preferred my dagger. It was special.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, we finished sword fighting, moved onto the next activity and before I knew it, I was getting ready for bed. Before I went back to my cabin I decided to try my luck, though I already knew how it was going to end.

I walked up to the Big House, a big, bright blue house with four stories, where Chiron and Mr. D stayed and walked inside. Unfortunately, Mr. D was the one there.

He squinted and rubbed his eyes, "Annabell? What are you doing here?"

"Actually, sir, as I've told you a bunch of times it's, Annabeth."

"And as I've told _you_ a thousand times, I don't care, Annabell." He looked me up and down, "Why are you here anyway?"

I shifted on my feet. "I was hoping I could talk to Chiron about... my quest."

Mr. D groaned. "You're still going on about that? Let's look at the facts, ever since Luke almost got killed by that Lagdog-"

"-Ladon."

Mr. D looked at me. "Do you want me to turn you into a grape bowl? Because I won't hesitate to."

Did I forget to mention that Mr. D was Dionysus, the god of wine and loved to threaten us? I think I might've. Well, Mr. D chased a nymph Zeus had declared off-limits and his punishment is to work at camp for a century. If I'm being honest, it's more of a punishment on us than it is on him.

"Mr. D, what are you rambling on about?" A voice said behind Mr. D, and he turned to look at the invader.

"Chiron! I wanted to talk to you." Relief flooded my voice. I hadn't seen Chiron since he left to go find some kid. I missed him.

"The usual I presume?"

Mr. D waved his hand. "You're wasting your time Chiron, you've told her like, a bazillion times that her time will come when someone new comes to camp, that's why she hangs out with every new kid that comes."

Heat rose to my face. "At least I want to _do_ something! All you do is drink diet coke and play pinochle!"

I know, I know. I shouldn't have insulted Mr. D and now I'm going to be a fruit bowl, a nice addition to the Big House's decorations. If we're being honest I was right. He does barely anything for our camp. The least he could do was learn our names. Correctly.

Mr. D stood but Chiron stopped him. "Annabeth, we've had this conversation too many times to count. You know what I'm going to say, and I think it'd be best if you stopped asking."

I started to protest but then I heard something.

"Someone's outside."

I flew open the door and ran into the rain with Chiron on my heels.

A few feet away was a satyr sprawled funny in the grass and lying on the porch was a boy, about the same age I was, who had messy black hair, with blood and dirt smeared on his face.

I couldn't help myself, I blurted out, "He's the one. He must be."

"Silence, Annabeth," Chiron said. "He's still conscious. Bring him inside."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: thank you for everyone who read this story! I hope you guys enjoyed it! Chapters later on will be a lot longer, around 1-2k words or more! I'm super excited to write this for you guys!!
> 
> (I think there might be a few that are 4k words)


	2. Turns Out, Dead Boy Isn't Actually Dead

You'd think a twelve-year-old boy would be light, but it took me ten minutes to bring him inside and onto a bed.

Our infirmary was overflowing with kids so I had to take care of the kid.

He woke up a few times while I was caring for him, though he seemed to know nothing about what happened with the gods. I think he's just dumb.

Honestly, he was a pain to take care of. He managed to tell me about what happened with his crazy pre-algebra teacher Mrs. Dodds while he was unconscious but couldn't answer my questions.

Once, I had to keep wiping nectar and ambrosia off of his chin and when I realized he was awake I asked, "What will happen at the summer solstice?"

He made a gagging noise, which I realized he had meant to say "What?" a little too loudly for my liking.

I looked around, afraid Chiron or Mr. D would catch me. "What's going on? What was stolen? We've only got a few weeks!"

During the winter solstice, me and a couple of other campers who were year-rounders paid a visit to the Empire State Building, where on the 600th floor Mount Olympus was located.

After we left, there's been crazy weather going on and a bunch of abnormal things. All that Chiron would tell me is that something extremely important was stolen and must be returned by the summer solstice.

I heard somebody knock and I practically shoved some ambrosia in his mouth. I groaned internally, he was about as useful to me as my sock.

Will Solace of the Apollo cabin walked in. "Annabeth, you've been with him all day, let me take care of him. Go see Grover, he's by the pavilion."

"Grover, oh my gods." I had completely forgotten about him. He's the satyr who led the kid to camp. I went to the pavilion and just as Will had said, Grover was there, eating all of the silverware.

"Grover get those out of your mouth we need those to eat."

"Annabeth, hey." Grover smiled weakly.

"What's wrong? You usually only eat silverware if you're scared, or really hungry."

"I am scared!" He wailed. "I failed! I didn't bring Percy to camp!"

"Grover, what are you talking about? Did someone else bring him?"

He went on to explain that the Minotaur had followed them and killed Percy's mother, knocked Grover out, and Percy had to kill the Minotaur barehanded, and then drag him to camp where I had found them.

"Grover... that was incredibly brave."

He wailed again and put his head in his hands. "I'm a failure! Because I lost him in New York! And his mom disappeared! And because technically Percy dragged me across the property line I never brought him in! The Council of Cloven Elders will never give me my searchers license!"

Over two thousand years ago the god of the wild, Pan, disappeared. A sailor off the coast of Ephesos heard a mysterious voice crying out from the shore, "Tell them that the great god Pan has died!" When humans heard the news, they believed it. They've been pillaging Pan's kingdom ever since.

But for the satyrs, Pan was their lord and master. He protected them and the wild places of the earth. They refuse to believe that he died. In every generation, the bravest satyrs pledge their lives to find Pan. They search the earth, exploring all the wildest places, hoping to find where he is hidden and wake him from his sleep.

And Grover wanted to find him. It was his life's dream. His father and his uncle were searchers too, though they never made it back.

I believed in Grover. He will get his license, and he will find Pan, and he'll be the first satyr to come back alive.

"You are the bravest, strongest, most driven satyr I have ever met. I don't have any doubt that you'll find Pan and return alive."

He sniffled. "You think so?"

"Of course I do. I believe in you so much."

"Thanks."

I hugged him and when we broke apart Will Solace was there.

"He's almost awake, Grover I think you should be the one to tell him."

Grover smiled and put his fake feet on and grabbed his hat.

"Cya later Annabeth!"

And with that final goodbye, he followed Will to the infirmary.

I pulled out my hat that my mother gave me as a gift. It was your average Yankees baseball cap, but when you put it on you turned invisible. I twisted it in my hands.

"Hey."

I jumped. "Oh my gods you scared me!"

When I saw who it was I immediately blushed, then I got mad at myself for it.

It was Luke. He was tall and muscular, with short-cropped sandy hair and a friendly smile. He wore his camp orange tank top, cutoffs, and sandals. The only thing unsettling about his appearance was his thick white scar that ran from just beneath his right eye to his jaw.

"I wouldn't sneak in to see him Annabeth, he's probably confused out of his mind and Grover might be able to handle him." Luke spoke his name like venom. He never particularly liked Grover, I didn't know why but I think it might've been because of Thalia.

"I have a feeling it's him. I can't exactly explain it but it's like a gut feeling, y' know?"

Luke stayed quiet for a little bit, as if lost in thought, and then said "Chiron's looking for you in the Big House." And then he disappeared.

Strange. I thought as I walked to the Big House. Chiron was waiting for me on the porch.

"Luke said you were looking for me?" When he didn't respond I asked again. "Chiron, is there anything you need?"

"Look around and tell me, what do you see?"

I walked to the railing and looked out. "Um, I see camp. Kids climbing the wall, riding pegasus, sword fighting, archery. Everyday activities."

Chiron scratched his beard. "Hmm, keep looking."

After sometime, Mr. D came out and sat with Chiron, both of them silent.

"Mr. Brunner!" A squeaky voice cried out.

I turned to look at who the voice belonged to, and it was the boy, behind him stood Grover, shuffling nervously.

"Ah, good, Percy," Chiron said. "Now we have four for pinochle."

He offered the boy, Percy, a chair to the right of Mr. D. I snorted. This was going to be interesting.

Once Mr. D realized Chiron was waiting for him to talk, he sighed and spoke. "Oh, I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp-Half Blood. There. Now, don't expect me to be glad to see you."

"Uh, thanks." Percy scooted away from him. I stifled a laugh.

"Annabeth?" Chiron called, "This young lady nursed you back to health, Percy. Annabeth, my dear, why don't you go check on Percy's bunk? We'll be putting him in cabin eleven for now."

I said, "Sure, Chiron."

I looked at Percy. He was probably my age, maybe a couple of centimetres shorter, and more scrawny. I glanced at the Minotaur horn in his hands, then back at him. I assumed he wanted some sort of praise for killing the Minotaur.

Instead, I said, "You drool when you sleep."

Then I sprinted to the Hermes cabin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: thank you to everyone who came from tiktok! All the support means a lot y'all don't even know!!


	3. Percy Becomes Supreme Lord of the Bathroom

I sat outside cabin 11 trying to read my book, which was in Ancient Greek, waiting for Chiron and Percy.

While they were approaching, I looked Percy up and down and tried to think of who his godly parent would be.

Definitely not Ares, too bony for Hephaestus, maybe Apollo? No, his hair is black and in serious need of a haircut.

"Annabeth," Chiron said, "I have masters' archery class at noon. Would you take Percy from here?"

"Yes, sir."

"Cabin eleven," Chiron told Percy, gesturing towards the doorway. "Make yourself at home."

Percy looked at the cabin while the Hermes kids bowed to Chiron. I didn't understand why they did that. It's just Chiron.

"Well, then," Chiron said. "Good luck, Percy. I'll see you at dinner."

He galloped away towards the archery range.

Percy stood in the doorway, looking at the kids. The campers were staring at him, sizing him up. Percy immediately changed his expression.

"Well?" I said, getting a little impatient. "Go on."

He tripped coming in the door and made a total fool of himself. There were some snickers from the campers, but none of them said anything.

I announced, "Percy Jackson, meet cabin eleven."

"Regular or undetermined?" Somebody asked.

Percy looked dumbfounded, but I said, "Undetermined." Everybody groaned. Luke walked forward to greet him. "Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there."

"This is Luke," I said and Percy glanced at me. I hardened my expression again. "He's your counsellor for now."

"For now?" He asked.

"You're undetermined," Luke explained patiently. If I were him I would've ran Percy over with a pegasus by now. "They don't know what cabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travellers."

Percy looked at the tiny section of the floor they'd given him. He fidgeted with the Minotaur's horn in his hands and looked around at the campers' faces, I could tell by his expression he didn't want to be here.

"How long will I be here?" He asked.

"Good question," Luke said. "Until you're determined."

"How long will that take?"

The campers all laughed.

"Come on," I said, I was getting impatient and he was embarrassing himself. "I'll show you the volleyball court."

"I've already seen it."

"Come on." I grabbed his wrist and dragged him outside. I could hear the kids of cabin eleven laughing behind us.

When we were a few meters away, I said, "Jackson, you have to do better than that."

"What?"

I rolled my eyes and mumbled under my breath, "I can't believe I thought you were the one."

"What's your problem?" I could tell Percy was getting angry now. "All I know is, I kill some bull guy –"

"Don't talk like that!" I told him. "You know how many kids at this camp wish they'd had your chance?"

"What, to get killed?"

"To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?"

He shook my head. "Look, if the thing I fought really was _the_ Minotaur, the same one in the stories..."

"Yes."

"Then there's only one."

"Yes."

"And he died, like, a gajillion years ago, right? Theseus killed him in the labyrinth. So..."

What I wanted to say was "You're an idiot" but what I said was, "Monsters don't die, Percy. They can be killed. But they don't die."

"Oh, thanks. That clears it up."

"They don't have souls, like you and me. You can dispel them for a while, maybe even for a whole lifetime if you're lucky. But they are primal forces. Chiron calls them archetypes. Eventually, they reform."

"You mean if I killed one, accidentally, with a sword –"

"The Fu... I mean, your maths teacher. That's right. She's still out there. You just made her very, very mad."

"How did you know about Mrs Dodds?"

"You talk in your sleep."

"You almost called her something. A Fury? They're Hades' torturers, right?"

I glanced nervously at the ground. "You shouldn't call them by name, even here. We call them the Kindly Ones, if we have to speak of them at all."

"Look, is there anything we can say without it thundering?" He whined, "Why do I have to stay in cabin eleven, anyway? Why is everybody so crowded together? There are plenty of empty bunks right over there."

He pointed to the first 3 cabins, and I felt myself pale. "You don't just choose a cabin, Percy. It depends on who your parents are. Or... your parent."

I stared at him, waiting for him to get it.

Instead he said, "My mom is Sally Jackson, she works at the candy store in Grand Central Station. At least, she used to."

"I'm sorry about your mom, Percy. But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about your other parent. Your dad."

"He's dead. I never knew him." He said plainly.

I sighed. "Your father's not dead, Percy."

"How can you say that? You know him?"

"No, of course not."

"Then how can you say –"

"Because I know you. You wouldn't be here if you weren't one of us."

"You don't know anything about me."

"No?" I fought the urge to laugh. "I bet you moved around from school to school. I bet you were kicked out of a lot of them."

"How –"

"Diagnosed with dyslexia. Probably ADHD, too."

Percy looked embarrassed. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Taken together, it's almost a sure sign. The letters float off the page when you read, right? That's because your mind is hardwired for ancient Greek. And the ADHD – you're impulsive, can't sit still in the classroom. That's your battlefield reflexes. In a real fight, they'd keep you alive. As for the attention problems, that's because you see too much, Percy, not too little. Your senses are better than a regular mortal's. Of course the teachers want you medicated. Most of them are monsters. They don't want you seeing them for what they are."

"You sound like... you went through the same thing?"

"Most of the kids here did. If you weren't like us, you couldn't have survived the Minotaur, much less the ambrosia and nectar."

"Ambrosia and nectar." He repeated.

"The food and drink we were giving you to make you better. That stuff would've killed a normal kid. It would've turned your blood to fire and your bones to sand and you'd be dead."

This kid was so dumb I had to spell it out for him.

"Face it. You're a half-blood."

"Well! A newbie!" I groaned internally and looked over. "Clarisse," I sighed. "Why don't you go polish your spear or something?"

"Sure, Miss Princess," she replied, "So I can run you through with it Friday night."

"Errete es korakas," I said, which roughly translated in Greek for "Go to the cows" I hid my laughter. "You don't stand a chance."

"We'll pulverize you," Clarisse said, but her eye twitched. Perhaps she wasn't sure she could follow through on the threat.

She turned her attention on Percy. "Who's this little runt?"

"Percy Jackson," I said, "meet Clarisse, Daughter of Ares."

He blinked. "Like... the war god?"

Clarisse sneered. "You got a problem with that?"

"No," he said, standing a little taller. "It explains the bad smell."

Clarisse growled. "We got an initiation ceremony for newbies, Prissy."

"Percy."

"Whatever. Come on, I'll show you."

"Clarisse –" I tried to say.

"Stay out of it, wise girl." I stayed quiet, I wanted to see what this kid was made of.

He handed me his Minotaur horn and got ready to fight, but before any of us knew it, Clarisse had him by the neck and was dragging him towards a cinder-block building that was the bathrooms. He was kicking and punching. She dragged him into the girls' bathroom and I followed behind Clarisse's siblings.

They were all laughing, and Percy was still struggling against her.

"Like he's "Big Three" material," Clarisse scoffed as she pushed him towards one of the toilets. "Yeah, right. Minotaur probably fell over laughing, he was so stupid-looking."

Her friends snickered.

I stood in the corner, watching through my fingers pretending to be scared so I wasn't next, I wasn't about to gargle toilet water with Percy.

Clarisse bent him over on his knees and started pushing his head towards the toilet bowl. Percy was straining to keep his head up. And then the plumbing started to rumble and the pipes shudder. Clarisse's grip on Percy's hair loosened. Water shot out of the toilet, making an arc straight over his head, and the next thing I knew, Percy was sprawled on the bathroom tiles with Clarisse screaming behind him.

Water blasted out of the toilets, hitting Clarisse straight in the face so hard it pushed her down onto her butt. The water stayed on her like the spray from a fire hose, pushing her backwards into a shower stall.

She struggled, gasping, and her friends started coming towards her. But then the other toilets exploded, too, and six more streams of toilet water blasted them back. The showers acted up, too, and together all the fixtures sprayed the camouflage girls right out of the bathroom, spinning them around like pieces of garbage being washed away.

As soon as they were out the door, the water stopped running.

The entire bathroom was flooded. I hadn't been spared like Percy had. I was dripping wet, but I didn't get pushed out the door, I was standing in exactly the same place, staring at Percy in shock.

He looked down and registered he was sitting in the only dry spot in the whole room. There was a circle of dry floor around him.

Percy stood up, his legs shaky.

"How did you..."

"I don't know."

We walked to the door. Outside, Clarisse and her friends were sprawled in the mud, and a bunch of other campers had gathered around to gawk. Clarisse's hair was flattened across her face. Her camouflage jacket was sopping and she smelled like sewage. She gave Percy a look of absolute hatred.

"You are dead, new boy. You are totally dead."

Instead of walking away Percy said, "You want to gargle with toilet water again, Clarisse? Close your mouth."

Her friends had to hold her back. They dragged her towards cabin five, while the other campers made way to avoid her flailing feet.

I stared at Percy and a realization dawned on me. A key tactic that could insure us victory on Friday during capture the flag.

"What?" He demanded. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking," I said slowly, "that I want you on my team for capture the flag."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: What would you guys prefer; having 5 different books for each PJO book or one book for all five?
> 
> If y'all chose only one book, I'll have to change the name of the book!


	4. I Kinda Explain Everything

Word of the bathroom incident spread immediately. Wherever we went, campers pointed at Percy and murmured something about toilet water. Or maybe they were just staring at me, I was still pretty much dripping wet.

I showed him a few more places: the metal shop (where the Hephaestus kids were forging their own swords), the arts-and-crafts room (where satyrs were sandblasting a giant marble statue of a goat-man), and the climbing wall, which consisted of two facing walls that shook violently, dropped boulders, sprayed lava and clashed together if you didn't get to the top fast enough.

Finally we returned to the canoeing lake, where the trail led back to the cabins.

"I've got training to do," I said flatly. "Dinner's at seven thirty. Just follow your cabin to the mess hall."

"Annabeth, I'm sorry about the toilets."

"Whatever."

"It wasn't my fault."

I looked at him skeptically, it was his fault. He'd made water shoot out of the bathroom fixtures. The toilets had responded to him. Percy had become one with the plumbing. And his new found talent is giving me some ideas on who is father was.

"You need to talk to the Oracle," I said.

"Who?"

"Not who. What. The Oracle. I'll ask Chiron."

Percy gazed at the lake, and then stumbled back. I looked into the lake and saw two teenage girls sitting cross-legged at the base of the pier, about five meters below. They wore blue jeans and shimmering green T-shirts, and their brown hair floated loose around their shoulders as minnows darted in and out. They smiled and waved at Percy as if they knew him.

Percy cautiously waved back.

"Don't encourage them," I warned him. "Naiads are terrible flirts."

"Naiads," he repeated. "That's it. I want to go home now."

I frowned. "Don't you get it, Percy? You are home. This is the only safe place on earth for kids like us."

"You mean, mentally disturbed kids?"

"I mean not human. Not totally human, anyway. Half-human."

"Half-human and half-what?"

"I think you know."

Percy hesitated, and then said, "God. Half-god."

I nodded. "Your father isn't dead. Percy. He's one of the Olympians."

"That's... crazy."

"Is it? What's the most common thing gods did in the old stories? They ran around falling in love with humans and having kids with them. Do you think they've changed their habits in the last few millennia?"

"But those are just –" He paused, covering up his mistake and continued, "But if all the kids here are half-gods –"

"Demigods," I corrected. "That's the official term. Or half-bloods."

"Then who's your dad?"

My hands tightened around the pier railing. I didn't like talking about my family. There was nothing to gloat about. "My dad is a professor at West Point," I said. "I haven't seen him since I was very small. He teaches American history."

"He's human."

"What? You assume it has to be a male god who finds a human female attractive? How sexist is that?"

"Who's your mom, then?"

"Cabin six."

"Meaning?"

I straightened. "Athena. Goddess of wisdom and battle."

"And my dad?"

"Undetermined," I said, "like I told you before. Nobody knows."

"Except my mother. She knew."

"Maybe not, Percy. Gods don't always reveal their identities."

"My dad would have. He loved her."

I gave him a cautious look. I didn't want to burst his bubble, most of the time gods didn't reveal who they were because mortals could go insane from knowing too much.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe he'll send a sign. That's the only way to know for sure: your father has to send you a sign claiming you as his son. Sometimes it happens."

"You mean sometimes it doesn't?"

I ran my palm along the rail. "The gods are busy. They have a lot of kids and they don't always... Well, sometimes they don't care about us, Percy. They ignore us."

Percy stayed quiet for a little bit. "So I'm stuck here. That's it? For the rest of my life?"

"It depends," I replied. "Some campers only stay the summer. If you're a child of Aphrodite or Demeter, you're probably not a real powerful force. The monsters might ignore you, so you can get by with a few months of summer training and live in the mortal world the rest of the year. But for some of us, it's too dangerous to leave. We're year-rounders. In the mortal world, we attract monsters. They sense us. They come to challenge us. Most of the time, they'll ignore us until we're old enough to cause trouble – about ten or eleven years old – but after that most demigods either make their way here, or they get killed off. A few manage to survive in the outside world and become famous. Believe me, if I told you the names, you'd know them. Some don't even realize they're demigods. But very, very few are like that."

"So monsters can't get in here?"

I shook my head. "Not unless they're intentionally stocked in the woods or specially summoned by somebody on the inside."

"Why would anybody want to summon a monster?"

"Practice fights. Practical jokes."

"Practical jokes?"

"The point is, the borders are sealed to keep mortals and monsters out. From the outside, mortals look into the valley and see nothing unusual, just a strawberry farm."

"So... you're a year-rounder?"

I nodded again. From under the collar of my T-shirt I pulled a leather necklace with five clay beads of different colors. It was just like any other campers, except mine also had a big gold ring strung on it, my father's college ring.

"I've been here since I was seven," I said. "Every August, on the last day of summer session, you get a bead for surviving another year. I've been here longer than most of the counsellors, and they're all in college."

"Why did you come so young?"

I twisted my father's ring on my necklace. "None of your business."

"Oh." We stood there for a minute in uncomfortable silence.

"So... I could just walk out of here right now if I wanted to?"

"It would be suicide, but you could, with Mr D's or Chiron's permission. But they wouldn't give permission until the end of the summer session unless..."

"Unless?"

"You were granted a quest. But that hardly ever happens. The last time..."

My voice trailed off. The last time hadn't gone well, just ask Luke.

"Back in the sick room," Percy said, "when you were feeding me that stuff –"

"Ambrosia."

"Yeah. You asked me something about the summer solstice."

I felt my shoulders tense. "So you do know something?"

"Well... no. Back at my old school, I overheard Grover and Chiron talking about it. Grover mentioned the summer solstice. He said something like we didn't have much time, because of the deadline. What did that mean?"

I clenched my fists. "I wish I knew. Chiron and the satyrs, they know, but they won't tell me. Something is wrong in Olympus, something pretty major. Last time I was there, everything seemed so normal."

"You've been to Olympus?"

"Some of us year-rounders – Luke and Clarisse and I and a few others – we took a field trip during winter solstice. That's when the gods have their big annual council."

"But... how did you get there?"

"The Long Island Railroad, of course. You get off at Penn Station. Empire State Building, special elevator to the six-hundredth floor." I looked at him, shouldn't he know how to get to the Empire State Building? "You are a New Yorker, right?"

"Oh, sure." I had a feeling he was tempted to point out there were only a hundred and two floors at the Empire State Building, but he stayed quiet.

"Right after we visited," I continued, "the weather got weird, as if the gods had started fighting. A couple of times since, I've overheard satyrs talking. The best I can figure out is that something important was stolen. And if it isn't returned by summer solstice, there's going to be trouble. When you came, I was hoping... I mean – Athena can get along with just about anybody, except for Ares. And of course she's got the rivalry with Poseidon. But, I mean, aside from that, I thought we could work together. I thought you might know something."

He shook my head.

"I've got to get a quest," I muttered to no one in particular. "I'm not too young. If they would just tell me the problem..." Percy's stomach growling broke my train of thoughts. I told him to go on, I'd catch him later. Percy left me on the pier, tracing my finger across the rail trying to figure out how I'd get a quest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: ugh I love writing this in Annabeth's perspective so much already! If y'all have any ideas or if anything is incorrect, PLEASE tell me! I want this to be as accurate as possible. I hope y'all enjoy this as much as I am :)


	5. We Play Capture the Flag

My routine settled back to normal, besides the fact that Percy had decided we were all of a sudden best friends. Each morning I taught him Ancient Greek and we talked about the gods and goddesses.

And it turned out that I was right (obviously) about his dyslexia. He could read a few lines of Homer without giving either of us a headache.

The rest of the day Percy would try to see what he was good at. He shot Chiron in the tail with an arrow, face planted while foot racing, and got pulverized by Clarisse in wrestling.

Apparently the only thing he was good at was canoeing, and my theory about his father was slowly getting confirmed, and if I'm right, we're all doomed.

With Grover reporting to camp that Percy was "special", and him becoming one with the plumbing AND excelling at canoeing was a sure sign, but Chiron told me to pray to the gods I was wrong.

Luke told me that in Percy's sword fighting class he was able to disarm him, but when Percy tried again he failed, and they put it on beginners' luck and the fact that he wasn't able to find Percy a balanced sword.

That night there was a lot more excitement than usual. Finally, it was time for capture the flag.

A few days before, I had scouted the forest, thinking of how to put my plan into action. It should've been fairly easy, but I needed to keep a close eye on Percy while being able to capture Ares's flag.

Me and two of my siblings ran into the pavilion carrying a 10 foot long glistening gray banner with a painting of an owl above an olive tree, Athena's symbol. Clarisse and her siblings ran in from the opposite side of the pavilion carrying the same banner as us except it was gaudy red with a bloody spear and a boar on it, Ares's symbol.

I told Luke about my plan involving Percy, and he agreed to temporarily ally with us along with Apollo, so we had the two biggest cabins at camp.

Ares had allied themselves with everybody else: Dionysus, Demeter, Aphrodite, and Hephestus. Dionysus's kids were actually pretty athletic, but there were only two of them. Demeter kids had the advantage with nature, but they didn't like to be aggressive.

Aphrodite's sons and daughters I wasn't too worried about, but I'm not going to underestimate them, not after last month. I was still coughing up glitter. Hephestsus's kids weren't pretty, and there were only four of them, but they were big and burly. That could be problematic. And all of that left the Ares cabin: A dozen of the biggest, ugliest, meanest kids at camp.

Chiron hammered his hoof on the marble. "Heroes!" he announced. "You know the rules. The creek is the boundary line. The entire forest is fair game. All magic items are allowed. The banner must be prominently displayed, and have no more than two guards. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged. No killing or maiming is allowed. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. Arm yourselves!"

He spread his hands, and the tables were suddenly covered with equipment: helmets, bronze swords, spears, oxhide shields coated in metal. Everybody lunged for weapons and armour.

I only grabbed a helmet. My helmet, like all the helmets on Athena's side, had a blue horsehair plume on top. Ares and their allies had red plumes.

I yelled, "Blue team, forward!"

The blue team cheered and shook their swords and followed me down the path to the south woods. The red team yelled taunts at us as they headed off towards the north. Percy managed to catch up with me without tripping over any of his equipment.

I studied Percy. His helmet fell over his eyes a little bit so he pushed it up every few minutes. His armor was perfect, so I assumed Luke did it. He carried a shield that was too big for his body.

I was nervous for him. I don't think he'll come out of this well. I was betting my entire plan off of Clarisse's revenge skills (which were pretty good) and how long she can wait without getting her revenge.

"Hey." Percy said, "So what's the plan? Got any magic items you can loan me?"

My hand drifted towards my pocket, to my mother's hat. Maybe instead I'll watch over Percy while Luke captures the flag...

"Just watch Clarisse's spear," I warned him. "You don't want that thing touching you. Otherwise, don't worry. We'll take the banner from Ares. Has Luke given you your job?"

"Border patrol, whatever that means."

"It's easy. Stand by the creek, keep the reds away. Leave the rest to me. Athena always has a plan."

I pushed ahead, leaving Percy in the dust. I needed to be alone with my thoughts.

Before going over the plan, I stationed Per y next to a little creek that gurgled over some rocks, then the rest of the team scattered into the trees towards Zeus's Fist.

In all honesty, I was a little scared for Percy, that's why I put him next to the creek. If I'm right, he'll be able to defend himself. If I'm wrong... well he'll be spending the next week in the infirmary.

Luke found his way next to my side.

"You made sure Clarisse overheard you talking to Percy right?" I asked him. If she didn't hear Luke the plan was done for.

"Of course she heard me. She can't help it."

I grinned. "Good. We can capture the flag with her out of the way."

We went over the plan before we started, without Percy. Luke explained to his cabin the plan not involving Percy, and I told the Apollo cabin the same plan.

Technically we had two different plans. One involving Percy and one not involving Percy.

Once we stationed our banner we went over the plan one more time. As soon as we finished, the conch horn blew and both teams yelled and whooped, plunging into the woods. I slipped on my hat and vanished.

The game was fairly quick. Luke had grabbed the Ares's flag with almost no interference, seeing how the Ares kids were probably too busy beating up Percy.

Luke's siblings were guarding him as he ran, so I decided to go see if Percy had die yet, but turns out he was doing good on his own.

Percy smacked Clarisse between the eyes with his sword-butt and sent her tumbling backwards out of the creek.

Luke raced past us, Ares's flag flying behind him like a cape.

"A trick!" She shouted. "It was a trick."

Clarisse's siblings staggered after Luke, but it was too late. Everybody converged on the creek as Luke ran across into friendly territory. Our side exploded into cheers. The red banner shimmered and turned to silver. The boar and spear were replaced with a huge caduceus, the symbol of cabin eleven. Everybody on the blue team picked up Luke and started carrying him around on their shoulders. Chiron cantered out from the woods and blew the conch horn.

The game was over. We'd won.

"Not bad, hero."

Percy looked at me puzzled.

"Where the heck did you learn to fight like that?" I asked, then I realized I was still wearing my hat and took it off. He wasn't even fazed by the fact that I had just been invisible.

"You set me up," Percy said. "You put me here because you knew Clarisse would come after me, while you sent Luke around the flank. You had it all figured out."

I shrugged. "I told you. Athena always, always has a plan."

"A plan to get me pulverized."

"I came as fast as I could. I was about to jump in, but..." I shrugged again. "You didn't need help."

Then I noticed his wounded arm.

"How did you do that?"

"Sword cut," he replied. "What do you think?"

"No. It _was_ a sword cut. Look at it." The blood was gone. Where the huge cut had been, there was a long white scratch, and even that was fading. As I watched, it turned into a small scar, and disappeared.

"I – I don't get it," Percy said.

I looked down at his feet, noticing he was still standing in the water.

I said, "Step out of the water, Percy."

"What –"

"Just do it."

Percy carefully stepped out of the creek and almost fell over, but I steadied him.

I knew who his father was, and this was not good. I groaned internally for not guessing it earlier. The signs were _so_ obvious.

"Oh, Styx," I cursed. "This is not good. I didn't want... I assumed it would be Zeus..."

He opened his mouth but before he could speak, something growled. It sounded canine. A howl ripped through the forest. The campers' cheering died instantly.

Chiron shouted in Ancient Greek, "Stand ready! My bow!"

I drew my dagger. There on the rocks just above us was a black hound the size of a rhino, with lava-red eyes and fangs like daggers. A hellhound.

It was looking straight at me, no not at me, at Percy. Nobody moved except me. I yelled, "Percy, run!"

I tried to step in front of him, but the hellhound was too fast. It leaped over me – an enormous shadow with teeth – and it hit Percy. He stumbled backwards. I watched as the hounds razor-sharp claws ripped through his armor like it was paper.

Then there was a cascade of thwacking sounds, like forty pieces of paper being ripped one after the other. From the hellhound's neck sprouted a cluster of arrows. The monster fell dead at Percy's feet. By some miracle, he was still alive.

Chiron trotted up next to us, a bow in his hand, his face grim.

"Di immortales," I said. "That's a hellhound from the Fields of Punishment. They don't... they're not supposed to..."

"Someone summoned it," Chiron said. "Someone inside the camp."

Luke came over, the banner in his hand forgotten, his moment of glory gone. He looked grim, his scar casted a shadow, making him look... different, but his eyes glinted with something but before I could tell what it was, it was gone.

Clarisse yelled, "It's all Percy's fault! Percy summoned it!"

"Be quiet, child," Chiron told her. We watched the body of the hellhound melt into shadow, soaking into the ground until it disappeared.

"You're wounded," I said, just realizing how badly he was bleeding. "Quick, Percy, get in the water."

"I'm okay."

"No, you're not," I couldn't tell if he was being modest, or stupid. "Chiron, watch this."

Percy stumbled back into the creek, the whole camp gathering around him.

He straightened up, the cuts on his chest closing up. Some campers gasped.

"Look, I – I don't know why," Percy stuttered, trying to apologize. "I'm sorry..."

But no one was watching his wounds heal anymore. They were staring at something above Percy's head.

"Percy," I said, pointing. "Um..."

By the time he looked up, the sign was already fading, but you could still make out the hologram of green light, spinning and gleaming. A three-tipped spear: a trident.

"Your father," I murmured. "This is really not good."

"It is determined," Chiron announced. All around me, campers started kneeling, even the Ares cabin, though they didn't look happy about it. I stayed grounded on my feet.

"My father?" Percy asked, completely bewildered.

"Poseidon," said Chiron. "Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: not me already creating the cover for book two... no...😏


	6. Percy is Offered a Quest

The next morning, Chiron told me to keep an eye on Percy.

"I fear he will be apart of something bigger than anything we have seen in a long time." He had explained to me.

I knew Poseidon claiming him and the stolen item weren't coincidences. And what Chiron told me this morning. I was distracted by those thoughts, and even more distracted about the hellhound. Everybody talked about it, but never to Percy's face. The attack had scared everybody. It sent two messages: one, that Percy was the son of the Sea God; and two, monsters would stop at nothing to kill him. They could even invade camp, which had always been considered safe. The other campers steered clear of Percy as much as possible.

I taught Percy Greek in the mornings, to keep an eye on him like Chiron told me to, but I was lost in my thoughts. I came up with scenarios in my head on who could've betrayed the camp and sent the hellhound, but Percy's voice kept garring me out of my thoughts.

That night I dreamt that I was caught in a storm, unable to get out. I saw a figure standing in the distance and started towards it.

 _This is only a dream_ , I reminded myself. _There's no need to panic_.

As I drew nearer to the figure, I realized it was Luke, but he looked like he was sleeping while standing up. All his features were relaxed and he looked peaceful. I reached up and touched his face. When my hand made contact with him, his eyes flew open and he grabbed my hand. I screamed.

His eyes were golden instead of blue and they bored into my grey ones. Luke let go of me, and the ground opened, and I was swallowed whole.

I woke up, sure I was falling. I was still in bed in cabin six. My body told me it was morning, but it was dark outside, and thunder rolled across the hills. A storm was brewing. I hadn't dreamed that.

Someone was shaking my arm. I blinked and looked to see who it was. It was one of my siblings, Dina Al-Najim. She was wearing an emerald green hijab that complimented her dark complexion extremely well.

"Hey. I'm sorry I didn't mean to wake you, but can we talk?"

I nodded, too tired to talk. After I got dressed we sat on the steps of the Athena cabin.

"What's up?"

"Chiron and Mr D wants to see Percy."

"Why?"

"I wasn't told much, but I think its about his quest."

What I wanted to say is "Why was Percy getting a quest? He hasn't even been trained properly. I should be the one getting a quest. I'm way more qualified than him. I've been training since I was seven!"

But I remember Chiron's request and I said, "I'm going on the quest."

"I don't think thats a good idea, Annabeth."

I looked at her confused.

"Percy's a Poseidon kid. You're an Athena child. Poseidon and Athena don't mix very well."

"How would you know?"

Dina sighed. "Athena and Poseidon have a huge rival. You remember Athens?"

"Dina, I've been waiting _five years_ to go on a quest. To get out into the real world and be able to kick some monster butt. I want to know if I'll be good enough."

"Annabeth-"

"Dina," I interrupted her. "I'm sorry. Right now, I don't really care for Moms old feud. I need to go on this quest."

I sighed and looked around at camp. When I went on my quest, would I miss this place? Then I looked back at Dina, who was surveying the sky. Would I miss my siblings too?

"Woah. What _is_ that?"

The storm was bigger than average and seemed unnatural. Maybe Zeus was mad?

At the volleyball pit, the kids from Apollo's cabin were playing a morning game against the satyrs. Dionysus's twins were walking around in the strawberry fields, making the plants grow. Everybody was going about their normal business, but they looked tense. They kept their eyes on the storm.

"I know you want to go on this quest but please, think about it."

I buried my head into my hands.

"Well, I'll see you later I guess." Dina fixed her hijab and gave me a small smile before giving one last look at the sky, then walking back into our cabin.

I headed towards the Big House where I was met on the porch by Dionysus, who sat the pinochle table in his tiger-striped Hawaiian shirt with his Diet Coke, just like any other day. Chiron sat across the table in his fake wheelchair. They were playing against invisible opponents - two set of cards hovering in the air.

"I'm going on the quest and I don't care what you say."

To my surprise, Chiron smiled. Mr. D ignored me.

"I was hoping you'd say that. I think Percy will need all the help he can get."

"Put on your cap Annabell and you can listen to our conversation. I have a feeling the boy won't say much when you're around." Mr. D said. That was one of the most smartest things I've heard him say, but don't tell Mr. D that.

A few minutes later I was invisible, watching Percy and Grover walk up to the front porch of the Big House.

"Well, well," Mr D said without looking up. "Our little celebrity."

Silence.

"Come closer," Mr D said. "And don't expect me to kowtow to you, mortal, just because old Barnacle-Beard is your father."

A net of lightning flashed across the clouds. Thunder shook the windows of the house.

"Blah, blah, blah," Dionysus said. Chiron feigned interest in his pinochle cards. Grover cowered by the railing, his hooves clopping back and forth.

"If I had my way," Dionysus said, "I would cause your molecules to erupt in flames. We'd sweep up the ashes and be done with a lot of trouble. But Chiron seems to feel this would be against my mission at this cursed camp: to keep you little brats safe from harm."

"Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr D," Chiron put in.

"Nonsense," Dionysus said, and I saw Percy gulp. "Boy wouldn't feel a thing. Nevertheless, I've agreed to restrain myself. I'm thinking of turning you into a dolphin instead, sending you back to your father."

"Mr D –" Chiron warned.

"Oh, all right," Dionysus relented. "There's one more option. But it's deadly foolishness." Dionysus rose, and the invisible players' cards dropped to the table. "I'm off to Olympus for the emergency meeting. If the boy is still here when I get back, I'll turn him into an Atlantic bottlenose. Do you understand? And Perseus Jackson, if you're at all smart, you'll see that's a much more sensible choice than what Chiron feels you must do."

Dionysus picked up a playing card, twisted it, and it became a plastic rectangle. A credit card? No. A security pass. He snapped his fingers. The air seemed to fold and bend around him. He became a holograph, then a wind, then he was gone, leaving only the smell of fresh-pressed grapes lingering behind.

Chiron smiled at Percy, but he looked tired and strained. "Sit, Percy, please. And Grover." They did. Chiron laid his cards on the table, a winning hand he hadn't got to use.

"Tell me, Percy," he said. "What did you make of the hellhound?"

Percy shuddered and hesitated before he responded.

"It scared me," he said. "If you hadn't shot it, I'd be dead."

"You'll meet worse, Percy. Far worse, before you're done."

"Done... with what?"

"Your quest, of course. Will you accept it?"

Percy glanced at Grover, who was crossing his fingers.

"Um, sir," He said, "you haven't told me what it is yet."

Chiron grimaced. "Well, that's the hard part, the details."

Thunder rumbled across the valley. The storm clouds had now reached the edge of the beach. As far as I could see, the sky and the sea were boiling together.

"Poseidon and Zeus," Percy said. "They're fighting over something valuable... something that was stolen, aren't they?"

Chiron and Grover exchanged looks.

Chiron sat forward in his wheelchair. "How did you know that?"

Heat rose to Percy's cheeks. "The weather since Christmas has been weird, like the sea and the sky are fighting. Then I talked to Annabeth, and she'd overheard something about a theft. And... I've also been having these dreams."

"I knew it," Grover said.

"Hush, satyr," Chiron ordered.

"But it is his quest!" Grover's eyes were bright with excitement. "It must be!"

"Only the Oracle can determine." Chiron stroked his bristly beard. "Nevertheless, Percy, you are correct. Your father and Zeus are having their worst quarrel in centuries. They are fighting over something valuable that was stolen. To be precise: a lightning bolt."

Percy laughed nervously. "A what?"

"Do not take this lightly," Chiron warned. "I'm not talking about some tinfoil-covered zigzag you'd see in a second-grade play. I'm talking about a two-foot-long cylinder of high-grade celestial bronze, capped on both ends with god-level explosives."

"Oh."

I frowned. How can someone lose something as powerful as that?

"Zeus's master bolt," Chiron said, getting worked up now. "The symbol of his power, from which all other lightning bolts are patterned. The first weapon made by the Cyclopes for the war against the Titans, the bolt that sheered the top off Mount Etna and hurled Kronos from his throne; the master bolt, which packs enough power to make mortal hydrogen bombs look like firecrackers."

"And it's missing?"

Stolen," Chiron said.

"By who?"

"By whom," Chiron corrected. "By you."

My mouth fell open. The twists and turns this quest is taking.

"At least" – Chiron held up a hand – "that's what Zeus thinks. During the winter solstice, at the last council of the gods, Zeus and Poseidon had an argument. The usual nonsense: "Mother Rhea always liked you best," "Air disasters are more spectacular than sea disasters," et cetera. Afterwards, Zeus realized his master bolt was missing, taken from the throne room under his very nose. He immediately blamed Poseidon. Now a god cannot usurp another god's symbol of power directly – that is forbidden by the most ancient of divine laws. But Zeus believes your father convinced a human hero to take it."

"But I didn't –"

"Patience and listen, child," Chiron said. "Zeus has good reason to be suspicious. The forges of the Cyclopes are under the ocean, which gives Poseidon some influence over the makers of his brother's lightning. Zeus believes Poseidon has taken the master bolt, and is now secretly having the Cyclopes build an arsenal of illegal copies, which might be used to topple Zeus from his throne. The only thing Zeus wasn't sure about was which hero Poseidon used to steal the bolt. Now Poseidon has openly claimed you as his son. You were in New York over the winter holidays. You could easily have snuck into Olympus. Zeus believes he has found his thief."

"But I've never even been to Olympus! Zeus is crazy!"

I glanced nervously at the sky. I waited for Percy to get blasted where he sat, but then I noticed the sky.

The clouds weren't parting around us like they usually would. They were rolling straight over our valley, sealing us in like a coffin lid.

"Er, Percy...?" Grover said. "We don't use the c-word to describe the Lord of the Sky."

"Perhaps paranoid," Chiron suggested. "Then again, Poseidon has tried to unseat Zeus before. I believe that was question thirty-eight on your final exam..."

He looked at Percy as if he expected him to remember question thirty-eight.

I bit back a laugh. How could anyone accuse him of stealing a god's weapon? He was scrawny, and he looked scared. How was he a threat? But I learned long ago not to underestimate anything. He has yet to prove me wrong.

Chiron was still waiting for an answer.

"Something about a golden net?" Percy guessed. "Poseidon and Hera and a few other gods... they, like, trapped Zeus and wouldn't let him out until he promised to be a better ruler, right?"

"Correct," Chiron said. "And Zeus has never trusted Poseidon since. Of course, Poseidon denies stealing the master bolt. He took great offense at the accusation. The two have been arguing back and forth for months, threatening war. And now, you've come along – the proverbial last straw."

"But I'm just a kid!"

"Percy," Grover cut in, "if you were Zeus, and you already thought your brother was plotting to overthrow you, then your brother suddenly admitted he had broken the sacred oath he took after World War II, that he's fathered a new mortal hero who might be used as a weapon against you... Wouldn't that put a twist in your toga?"

"But I didn't do anything. Poseidon – my dad – he didn't really have this master bolt stolen, did he?"

Chiron sighed. "Most thinking observers would agree that thievery is not Poseidon's style. But the sea god is too proud to try convincing Zeus of that. Zeus has demanded that Poseidon return the bolt by the summer solstice. That's June twenty-first, ten days from now. Poseidon wants an apology for being called a thief by the same date. I hoped that diplomacy might prevail, that Hera or Demeter or Hestia would make the two brothers see sense. But your arrival has inflamed Zeus's temper. Now neither god will back down. Unless someone intervenes, unless the master bolt is found and returned to Zeus before the solstice, there will be war. And do you know what a full-fledged war would look like, Percy?"

"Bad?" He guessed.

"Imagine the world in chaos. Nature at war with itself. Olympians forced to choose sides between Zeus and Poseidon. Destruction. Carnage. Millions dead. Western civilization turned into a battleground so big it will make the Trojan War look like a water-balloon fight."

"Bad," Percy repeated.

"And you, Percy Jackson, would be the first to feel Zeus's wrath."

It started to rain. My mouth fell open. Volleyball players stopped their game and stared in stunned silence at the sky. Had Percy brought this storm to Half-Blood Hill? Was Zeus punishing the whole camp because of him?

"So I have to find the stupid bolt," he said angrily. "And return it to Zeus."

"What better peace offering," Chiron said, "than to have the son of Poseidon return Zeus's property?"

"If Poseidon doesn't have it, where is the thing?"

"I believe I know." Chiron's expression was grim. "Part of a prophecy I had years ago... well, some of the lines make sense to me, now. But before I can say more, you must officially take up the quest. You must seek the counsel of the Oracle."

"Why can't you tell me where the bolt is beforehand?"

"Because if I did, you would be too afraid to accept the challenge."

Percy swallowed. "Good reason."

"You agree then?"

Percy looked at Grover, who nodded encouragingly.

"All right," Percy decided. "It's better than being turned into a dolphin."

"Then it's time you consulted the Oracle," Chiron said. "Go upstairs, Percy Jackson, to the attic. When you come back down, assuming you're still sane, we will talk more."

* * *

"Well?" Chiron asked Percy, who slumped into a chair at the pinochle table.

"She said I would retrieve what was stolen."

She. The Oracle was a she. I didn't know that.

Grover sat forward, chewing excitedly on the remains of a Diet Coke can. "That's great!"

"What did the Oracle say exactly?" Chiron pressed. "This is important."

"She... she said I would go west and face a god who had turned. I would retrieve what was stolen and see it safely returned."

Percy hesitated. I studied his features. Its fairly easy to tell when someones lying if you know what to look for. Percy was nervously moving his feet around while keeping the rest of his body still. He wasn't looking at Chiron very much, and he was rolling his lips back into his mouth. Percy was hiding something, I decided.

Chiron didn't look satisfied. "Anything else?"

"No," he lied. "That's about it."

I shook my head. Percy is a terrible liar.

Chiron studied his face. "Very well, Percy. But know this: the Oracle's words often have double meanings. Don't dwell on them too much. The truth is not always clear until events come to pass."

"Okay," Percy said. "So where do I go? Who's this god in the west?"

"Ah, think, Percy," Chiron said. "If Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in a war, who stands to gain?"

"Somebody else who wants to take over?" He guessed.

"Yes, quite. Someone who harbours a grudge, who has been unhappy with his lot since the world was divided aeons ago, whose kingdom would grow powerful with the deaths of millions. Someone who hates his brothers for forcing him into an oath to have no more children, an oath that both of them have now broken."

The answer came to me immediately.

"Hades."

Chiron nodded. "The Lord of the Dead is the only possibility."

A scrap of aluminium dribbled out of Grover's mouth. "Whoa, wait. Wh-what?"

"A Fury came after Percy," Chiron reminded him. "She watched the young man until she was sure of his identity, then tried to kill him. Furies obey only one lord: Hades."

"Yes, but – but Hades hates all heroes," Grover protested and I remembered satyrs hate underground. Especially Grover. "Especially if he has found out Percy is a son of Poseidon..."

"A hellhound got into the forest," Chiron continued. "Those can only be summoned from the Fields of Punishment, and it had to be summoned by someone within the camp. Hades must have a spy here. He must suspect Poseidon will try to use Percy to clear his name. Hades would very much like to kill this young half-blood before he can take on the quest."

"Great," Percy muttered. "That's two major gods who want to kill me."

"But a quest to..." Grover swallowed. "I mean, couldn't the master bolt be in some place like Maine? Maine's very nice this time of year."

"Hades sent a minion to steal the master bolt," Chiron insisted. "He hid it in the Underworld, knowing full well that Zeus would blame Poseidon. I don't pretend to understand the Lord of the Dead's motives perfectly, or why he chose this time to start a war, but one thing is certain. Percy must go to the Underworld, find the master bolt, and reveal the truth."

Grover was trembling. He'd started eating pinochle cards like potato crisps. The poor guy needed to complete a quest with Percy so he could get his searcher's license.

"Look, if we know it's Hades," Percy told Chiron, "why can't we just tell the other gods? Zeus or Poseidon could go down to the Underworld and bust some heads."

"Suspecting and knowing are not the same," Chiron said. "Besides, even if the other gods suspect Hades – and I imagine Poseidon does – they couldn't retrieve the bolt themselves. Gods cannot cross each other's territories except by invitation. That is another ancient rule. Heroes, on the other hand, have certain privileges. They can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as they're bold enough and strong enough to do it. No god can be held responsible for a hero's actions. Why do you think the gods always operate through humans?"

Realization dawned on Percy's face. "You're saying I'm being used."

"I'm saying it's no accident Poseidon has claimed you now. It's a very risky gamble, but he's in a desperate situation. He needs you."

Percy went rigid.

I could practically see his emotions rolling around inside of him. His father abandoned him for his entire life and when he finally payed Percy attention, it was for his own personal gain.

"You've known I was Poseidon's son all along, haven't you?"

"I had my suspicions. As I said... I've spoken to the Oracle, too."

There was a lot he wasn't telling them about his prophecy, but since I'm technically not supposed to be here, I didn't say anything.

"So let me get this straight," Percy said. "I'm supposed to go to the Underworld and confront the Lord of the Dead."

"Check," Chiron said.

"Find the most powerful weapon in the universe."

"Check."

"And get it back to Olympus before the summer solstice, in ten days."

"That's about right."

Percy looked at Grover, who gulped down the ace of hearts. "Did I mention that Maine is very nice this time of year?" he asked weakly.

"You don't have to go," he told him. "I can't ask that of you."

"Oh..." He shifted his hooves. "No... it's just that satyrs and underground places... well..." He took a deep breath, then stood, brushing the shredded cards and aluminium bits off his T-shirt. "You saved my life, Percy. If... if you're serious about wanting me along, I won't let you down."

I could see the relief on Percy's face.

"All the way, G-man." He turned to Chiron. "So where do we go? The Oracle just said to go west."

"The entrance to the Underworld is always in the west. It moves from age to age, just like Olympus. Right now, of course, it's in America."

"Where?"

Chiron looked surprised. "I thought that would be obvious enough. The entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles."

"Oh," Percy said. "Naturally. So we just get on a plane –"

"No!" Grover shrieked. "Percy, what are you thinking? Have you ever been on a plane in your life?"

He shook my head, looking embarrassed.

"Percy, think," Chiron said. "You are the son of the Sea God. Your father's bitterest rival is Zeus, Lord of the Sky. Your mother knew better than to trust you in an aeroplane. You would be in Zeus's domain. You would never come down again alive."

Overhead, lightning crackled. Thunder boomed.

"Okay," Percy said, trying not to look at the storm. "So, I'll travel overland."

"That's right," Chiron said. "Two companions may accompany you. Grover is one. The other has already volunteered, if you will accept her help."

"Gee," Percy said, feigning surprise, and I wanted to bust his kneecaps. "Who else would be stupid enough to volunteer for a quest like this?"

The air shimmered around me as I stuffed my Yankees cap into my back pocket.

"I've been waiting a long time for a quest, Seaweed Brain," I said. "Athena is no fan of Poseidon, but if you're going to save the world, I'm the best person to keep you from messing up."

"If you do say so yourself," Percy said. "I suppose you have a plan, Wise Girl?"

Heat rose in my cheeks.

"Do you want my help or not?"

I watched him as he weighed his options in his head.

"A trio," Percy decided. "That'll work."

"Excellent," Chiron said. "This afternoon, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you are on your own." Lightning flashed. Rain poured down on the meadows that were never supposed to have violent weather.

"No time to waste," Chiron said. "I think you should all get packing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: do y'all like Dina? She's Muslim if you didn't know. I'm hoping to add more representation of POC and LGBTQ+ people, but since their quest is about to start I kinda missed the opportunity.


	7. We (Percy) Ruins a Perfectly Good Bus

It didn't take me long to pack. Luke had given a backpack to me and Percy each, and I decided to pack an extra change of clothes and a toothbrush. The camp store loaned me one hundred dollars in mortal money and twenty golden drachmas. The coins were as big as Girl Scout cookies and had images of various Greek gods stamped on one side and the Empire State Building on the other. The ancient mortal drachmas had been silver, but Olympians never used less than pure gold. Chiron said the coins might come in handy for non-mortal transactions. He gave Percy and me each a flask of nectar and an airtight bag full of ambrosia squares, to be used only in emergencies, if we were seriously hurt. It was god food, Chiron reminded us. It would cure us of almost any injury, but it was lethal to mortals. Too much of it would make a half-blood very, very feverish. An overdose would burn us up, literally. I wondered if Poseidon would smite me if I accidentally gave Percy too much.

I was bringing my magic Yankees cap, which was a twelfth-birthday present from my mom. I carried a book on famous classical architecture, written in Ancient Greek, to read when I got bored, and my long bronze knife, hidden in my shirt sleeve. Percy told me he was sure the knife would get us busted the first time we went through a metal detector. I rolled my eyes.

Grover wore his fake feet and his trousers to pass as human. He wore a green rasta-style cap, because when it rained his curly hair flattened and you could just see the tips of his horns. His bright orange backpack was full of scrap metal and apples to snack on. In his pocket was a set of reed pipes his daddy goat had carved for him, even though he only knew two songs: Mozart's Piano Concerto no. 12 and Hilary Duff's 'So Yesterday', both of which sounded pretty bad on reed pipes.

We waved goodbye to the other campers, took one last look at the strawberry fields, the ocean and the Big House, then hiked up Half-Blood Hill to the tall pine tree that used to be Thalia, daughter of Zeus.

Chiron was waiting for us in his wheelchair. Next to him stood Argus, the camp's head of security. He had eyes all over his body so he could never be surprised. Today, though, he was wearing a chauffeur's uniform, so I could only see extra peepers on his hands, face and neck.

"This is Argus," Chiron told Percy. "He will drive you into the city, and, er, well, keep an eye on things."

I heard footsteps behind us.

Luke came running up the hill, carrying a pair of basketball shoes.

"Hey!" he panted. "Glad I caught you."

I couldn't help it, I blushed but Luke ignored me completely.

"Just wanted to say good luck," Luke told Percy.

"And I thought... um, maybe you could use these." He handed Percy the sneakers, which looked pretty normal. They even smelled kind of normal.

Luke said, "Maia!"

White bird's wings sprouted out of the heels, startling me so much, Percy dropped them. The shoes flapped around on the ground until the wings folded up and disappeared.

"Awesome!" Grover said.

Luke smiled. "Those served me well when I was on my quest. Gift from Dad. Of course, I don't use them much these days..." His expression turned sad. While I forced mine to be neutral. Luke barely knew Percy and he'd gotten a gift. I've known Luke for five years.

"Hey, man," Percy said. "Thanks."

"Listen, Percy..." Luke looked uncomfortable. "A lot of hopes are riding on you. So just... kill some monsters for me, okay?" They shook hands. Luke patted Grover's head between his horns, then gave me a goodbye hug.

After Luke was gone, Percy said, "You're hyperventilating."

"Am not."

"You let him capture the flag instead of you, didn't you?"

"Oh... why do I want to go anywhere with you, Percy?"

I stomped down the other side of the hill, where a white SUV waited on the shoulder of the road. Argus followed me, jingling his car keys.

I waited for them to finish talking in the van. My mood lifted when I saw Grover fall over sideways so his backpack dragged through the grass. The winged shoes kept bucking up and down like tiny broncos.

"Practice," Chiron called after him. "You just need practice!"

"Aaaaa!" Grover went flying sideways down the hill like a possessed lawn mower, heading towards the van.

For the first time, the quest felt real. I was actually leaving Half-Blood Hill for the first time in five years. I was heading west with no adult supervision, no backup plan, not even a cell phone. I had no weapon stronger than a dagger to fight off monsters and reach the Land of the Dead, but I wasn't nervous. I was excited. I felt like my life had just begun.

When Percy got to the bottom of the hill, he looked back. Under the pine tree that used to be Thalia, daughter of Zeus, Chiron was now standing in full horse-man form, holding his bow high in salute. Just your typical summer-camp send-off by your typical centaur.

* * *

Argus drove us out of the countryside and into western Long Island. It felt weird to be on a highway again, Percy and Grover sitting next to me as if we were normal carpoolers. After five years at Half-Blood Hill, the real world seemed like a fantasy. I found myself staring at every McDonald's, every kid in the back of this parents' car, every billboard and shopping mall.

"So far so good," Percy told me. "Ten miles and not a single monster."

I gave him an irritated look. "It's bad luck to talk that way, Seaweed Brain."

"Remind me again – why do you hate me so much?"

"I don't hate you."

"Could've fooled me."

I folded my invisibility cap. "Look... we're just not supposed to get along, okay? Our parents are rivals."

"Why?"

I sighed. Didn't Chiron teach Percy Greek Mythology for like, the entire year?

"How many reasons do you want? One time my mom caught Poseidon with his girlfriend in Athena's temple, which is hugely disrespectful. Another time, Athena and Poseidon competed to be the patron god for the city of Athens. Your dad created some stupid saltwater spring for his gift. My mom created the olive tree. The people saw that her gift was better, so they named the city after her."

"They must really like olives."

"Oh, forget it."

"Now, if she'd invented pizza – that I could understand."

"I said, forget it!"

I stared out the window. Out of all the people I could've gone on my first quest with, why him?

Traffic slowed us down in Queens. By the time we got into Manhattan it was sunset and starting to rain. Argus dropped us at the Greyhound Station on the Upper East Side, not far from Percy's old apartment, he told us. As Argus unloaded our bags I watched as Percy ripped a flier off somewhere and threw it away. Argus made sure we got our bus tickets, then drove away, the eye on the back of his hand opening to watch us as he pulled out of the parking lot.

Percy gazed at an apartment complex and I knew he was thinking about what he would do on a normal day. Grover shouldered his backpack. He gazed down the street in the direction Percy was looking.

"You want to know why she married him, Percy?"

He stared at him. "Were you reading my mind or something?"

"Just your emotions." He shrugged. "Guess I forgot to tell you satyrs can do that. You were thinking about your mom and your stepdad, right?" Percy nodded, and I busied myself double checking everything.

"Your mom married Gabe for you," Grover told him. "You call him "Smelly", but you've got no idea. The guy has this aura... Yuck. I can smell him from here. I can smell traces of him on you, and you haven't been near him for a fortnight."

"Thanks," Percy said. "Where's the nearest shower?"

"You should be grateful, Percy. Your stepfather smells so repulsively human he could mask the presence of any demigod. As soon as I took a whiff inside his Camaro, I knew: Gabe has been covering your scent for years. If you hadn't lived with him every summer, you probably would've been found by monsters a long time ago. Your mom stayed with him to protect you. She was a smart lady. She must've loved you a lot to put up with that guy – if that makes you feel any better."

Percy shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable whether he knows it or not.

The rain kept coming down. We got restless waiting for the bus and decided to play some Hacky Sack with one of Grover's apples. Percy could not play for his life. He kept dropping the apple. The game ended when Percy tossed the apple towards Grover and it got too close to his mouth. In one mega goat bite, our Hacky Sack disappeared – core, stem and all.

Grover blushed. He tried to apologize, but Percy and I were too busy cracking up. Finally the bus came. As we stood in line to board, Grover started looking around, sniffing the air like he smelled his favorite food.

"What is it?" Percy asked.

"I don't know," he said tensely. "Maybe it's nothing." But I could tell it wasn't nothing. Percy and I started looking over our shoulders, too.

I was relieved when we finally got on board and found seats together in the back of the bus. We stowed our backpacks. I kept slapping my Yankees cap nervously against my thigh. As the last passengers got on, I clamped my hand onto Percy's knee. "Percy."

An old lady had just boarded the bus. She wore a crumpled velvet dress, lace gloves and a shapeless orange-knit hat that shadowed her face, and she carried a big paisley purse. When she tilted her head up, her black eyes glittered.

It was a Fury.

Percy scrunched down in his seat. Behind her came two more old ladies: one in a green hat, one in a purple hat. Otherwise they looked exactly like the first Fury – same gnarled hands, paisley handbags, wrinkled velvet dresses. Triplet demon grandmothers.

They sat in the front row, right behind the driver. The two on the aisle crossed their legs over the walkway, making an X. It was casual enough, but it sent a clear message: nobody leaves. The bus pulled out of the station, and we headed through the slick streets of Manhattan.

"She didn't stay dead long," Percy said, trying to keep his voice from quivering, and failing. "I thought you said they could be dispelled for a lifetime."

"I said if you're lucky," I said. "You're obviously not."

"All three of them," Grover whimpered. "Di immortales!"

"It's okay," I said, thinking hard. "The Furies. The three worst monsters from the Underworld. No problem. No problem. We'll just slip out the windows."

"They don't open," Grover moaned.

"A back exit?" I suggested.

There wasn't one. Even if there had been, it wouldn't have helped. By that time, we were on Ninth Avenue, heading for the Lincoln Tunnel.

"They won't attack us with witnesses around," Percy said. "Will they?"

"Mortals don't have good eyes," I reminded him. "Their brains can only process what they see through the Mist."

"They'll see three old ladies killing us, won't they?"

I thought about it. "Hard to say. But we can't count on mortals for help. Maybe an emergency exit in the roof...?" We hit the Lincoln Tunnel, and the bus went dark except for the running lights down the aisle. It was eerily quiet without the sound of the rain. How could we get out of here? Was there a way to hide Percy?

The Fury with the orange hat got up. In a flat voice, as if she'd rehearsed it, she announced to the whole bus: "I need to use the restroom."

"So do I," said the second sister.

"So do I," said the third sister. They all started coming down the aisle.

"I've got it," I said. "Percy, take my hat."

"What?"

"You're the one they want. Turn invisible and go up the aisle. Let them pass you. Maybe you can get to the front and get away."

"But you guys –"

"There's an outside chance they might not notice us," I said. "You're a son of one of the Big Three. Your smell might be overpowering."

"I can't just leave you."

"Don't worry about us,"Grover said. "Go!"

Percy's hands trembled as he took the Yankees cap and put it on and disappeared. The first sister stopped ten rows from us, sniffing, and looked straight into an empty seat, at nothing. My heart was pounding. Apparently she didn't see anything. She and her sisters kept going.

Percy was free.

We were almost through the Lincoln Tunnel now.

Grover gripped my arm as they neared us, and the Furies made a hideous noise as they stopped in front of us. The old ladies were not old ladies any more.

Their faces were still the same since I last saw them– I guess those couldn't get any uglier – their bodies had shriveled into leathery brown hag bodies with bat's wings and hands and feet like gargoyle claws. Their handbags had turned into fiery whips.

The Furies surrounded Grover and I, lashing their whips, hissing: "Where is it? Where?"

The other people on the bus were screaming, cowering in their seats. They saw something, all right.

"He's not here!" I yelled, standing in front of Grover. "He's gone!"

The Furies raised their whips and I drew my bronze knife. Grover grabbed a tin can from his snack bag and prepared to throw it.

I hadn't realized what happened until later. Percy had grabbed the wheel from the bus driver and started wrestling him for it.

The Furies smashed against the windows.

"Hey!' the driver yelled. "Hey – whoa!"

The bus slammed against the side of the tunnel, grinding metal, throwing sparks a mile behind us. We careened out of the Lincoln Tunnel and back into the rainstorm, people and monsters tossed around the bus, cars ploughed aside like bowling pins. Somehow the driver found an exit. We shot off the highway, through half a dozen traffic lights, and ended up barreling down one of those New Jersey rural roads where you can't believe there's so much nothing right across the river from New York. There were woods to our left, the Hudson River to our right and the driver seemed to be veering towards the river.

Percy had another great idea: he hit the emergency brake. The bus wailed, spun a full circle on the wet tar and crashed into the trees. The emergency lights came on. The door flew open. The bus driver was the first one out, the passengers yelling as they stampeded after him.

The Furies regained their balance. They lashed their whips at me while I waved my knife and yelled in Ancient Greek, telling them to back off. Grover threw tin cans.

Then Percy did the third stupidest thing he had done that day. He took off the invisible cap. "Hey!"

The Furies turned, baring their yellow fangs at him, and the exit suddenly sounded like an excellent idea. The first sister stalked up the aisle.

Every time she flicked her whip, red flames danced along the barbed leather. Her two ugly sisters hopped on top of the seats on either side of her and crawled towards me like huge nasty lizards.

"Perseus Jackson," The orange hat Fury said, in an accent that was hard to place.

"You have offended the gods. You shall die."

"I liked you better as a maths teacher," he told her. She growled.

Grover and I moved up behind the Furies cautiously, looking for an opening.

Percy took a ballpoint pen out of his pocket and uncapped it. A celestial bronze elongated into a shimmering double-edged sword. The Furies hesitated. They had felt Riptide's blade before. The first sister obviously didn't like seeing it again.

"Submit now," she hissed. "And you will not suffer eternal torment."

"Nice try," He told her.

"Percy, look out!" I cried.

The orange hat Fury, Mrs. Dodds, I guesed, lashed her whip around Percy's sword hand while the Furies on the either side lunged at him. Percy managed not to drop Riptide and struck the Fury on the left with its hilt, sending her toppling backwards into a seat. He turned and sliced the Fury on the right. As soon as the blade connected with her neck, she screamed and exploded into dust. I managed to get one of the Furies in a wrestler's hold and yanked her backwards while Grover ripped the whip out of her hands.

"Ow!" he yelled. "Ow! Hot! Hot!"

The Fury Percy hilt-slammed came at him again, talons ready, but he swung his sword and she broke open like a piñata.

The Fury was trying to get me off her back. She kicked, clawed, hissed and bit, but I held on while Grover got her legs tied up in her own whip. Finally we shoved her backwards into the aisle. The Fury tried to get up, but she didn't have room to flap her bat wings, so she kept falling down.

"Zeus will destroy you!" she promised. "Hades will have your soul!"

"Braccas meas vescimini!" Percy yelled, eat my pants. I shook my head as thunder shook the bus. The hair rose on the back of my neck.

"Get out!" I yelled at Percy. "Now!"

He didn't need any encouragement. We bolted outside the bus and found the other passengers wandering around in a daze, arguing with the driver, or running around in circles yelling,

"We're going to die!" A Hawaiian-shirted tourist with a camera snapped Percy's photograph before he could recap his sword.

"Our bags!" Grover realized. "We left our –"

BOOOOOM!

The windows of the bus exploded as the passengers ran for cover. Lightning shredded a huge crater in the roof, but an angry wail from inside told me The Furies was not yet dead.

"Run!" I said. "She's calling for reinforcements! We have to get out of here!" We plunged into the woods as the rain poured down, the bus in flames behind us and nothing but darkness ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: this shouldn't be this hard to write omggg. and thank you guys so much for all the support it means so much!!


	8. (8) We Visit the Garden Gnome Emporium

In a way, it's nice to know there are Greek gods out there, because you have somebody to blame when things go wrong. For instance, when you're walking away from a bus that's just been attacked by monster hags and blown up by lightning, and it's raining on top of everything else, most people might think that's just really bad luck; when you're a half-blood, you understand that some divine force really is trying to mess up your day.

So there we were, Percy and Grover and I, walking through the woods on the New Jersey riverbank, the glow of New York City making the night sky yellow behind us and the smell of the Hudson reeking in our noses.

Grover was shivering and braying, his big goat eyes turned slit-pupiled and full of terror. "Three Kindly Ones. All three at once."

Percy was in shock, not speaking. He flinched every few minutes, telling me that the explosion of bus windows still rang in his ears. I stayed strong, determined to not think about what happened and kept pulling them along, saying: "Come on! The further away we get, the better."

"All our money was back there," Percy reminded me, which was extremely unneeded. "Our food and clothes. Everything."

"Well, maybe if you hadn't decided to jump into the fight –"

"What did you want me to do? Let you get killed?"

"You didn't need to protect me, Percy. I would've been fine."

"Sliced like sandwich bread," Grover put in, "but fine."

"Shut up, goat boy," I snapped.

Grover brayed mournfully. "Tin cans... a perfectly good bag of tin cans."

We sloshed across mushy ground, through nasty twisted trees that smelled like sour laundry. After a few minutes, I fell into line next to Percy.

"Look, I..." My voice faltered and I gritted my teeth. "I appreciate your coming back for us, okay? That was really brave."

"We're a team, right?"

I was silent for a few more steps. "It's just that if you died... aside from the fact that it would really suck for you, it would mean the quest was over. This may be my only chance to see the real world." I hadn't really opened up to anyone about this, and I was confused why I was talking to Percy about it.

The thunderstorm had finally let up. The city glow faded behind us, leaving us in almost total darkness. I couldn't see anything of Percy, which was kind of annoying since I could usually read him like a book.

"You haven't left Camp Half-Blood since you were seven?" He asked me.

"No... only short field trips. My dad –"

"The history professor."

"Yeah. It didn't work out for me living at home. I mean, Camp Half-Blood is my home." I was rushing my words out now, unable to control or stop myself. "At camp you train and train. And that's all cool and everything, but the real world is where the monsters are. That's where you learn whether you're any good or not."

I could hear the doubt in my voice. I wasn't good enough. There were so many other kids at camp who could have dealt with our situation much better than I could've.

"You're pretty good with that knife," Percy said.

"You think so?"

"Anybody who can piggyback-ride a Fury is okay by me." I couldn't really see, but I thought he might've smiled.

There was something nagging me. Something the Furies had said.

"You know," I said, "maybe I should tell you... Something funny back on the bus..." I was interrupted by a shrill toot-toot-toot, like the sound of an owl being tortured.

"Hey, my reed pipes still work!" Grover cried. "If I could just remember a "find path" song, we could get out of these woods!"

He puffed out a few notes, but the tune still sounded suspiciously like Hilary Duff.

Instead of finding a path, Percy immediately slammed into a tree and got a nice-size knot on his head.

I laughed. He glared at me.

Add to the list of superpowers Percy did not have: infrared vision.

After tripping and cursing and generally feeling miserable for another mile or so, I started to see light up ahead: the colors of a neon sign. I could smell food. Fried, greasy, excellent food.

There weren't that many unhealthy foods at camp. The only people who ate junk were the ones who snuck it in. We lived on grapes, bread, cheese and extra-lean-cut nymph-prepared barbecue.

We kept walking until I saw a deserted two-lane road through the trees. On the other side was a closed-down gas station, a tattered billboard for a 1990s movie and one open business, which was the source of the neon light and the good smell.

It wasn't a fast-food restaurant like Percy had hoped. It was one of those weird roadside curio shops that sell lawn flamingos and wooden Indians and cement grizzly bears and stuff like that. The main building was a long, low warehouse, surrounded by acres of statuary. The neon sign above the gate was impossible for me to read, because if there's anything worse for my dyslexia than regular English, it's red cursive neon English. To me, it looked like: ATNYU MES GDERAN GOMEN MEPROIUM.

"What the heck does that say?" Percy asked me.

"I don't know," I said. He had forgotten I was dyslexic too.

Grover translated: "Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium."

Flanking the entrance, as advertised, were two cement garden gnomes, ugly bearded little runts, smiling and waving, as if they were about to get their picture taken. Percy crossed the street, following the smell of the hamburgers.

"Hey..." Grover warned.

"The lights are on inside," I said. "Maybe it's open."

"Snack bar," Percy said wistfully.

"Snack bar," I agreed.

"Are you two crazy?" Grover said. "This place is weird."

We ignored him.

The front garden was a forest of statues: cement animals, cement children, even a cement satyr playing the pipes, which gave Grover the creeps.

"Bla-ha-ha!" he bleated. "Looks like my Uncle Ferdinand!"

We stopped at the warehouse door.

"Don't knock," Grover pleaded. "I smell monsters."

"Your nose is clogged up from the Furies," I told him. "All I smell is burgers. Aren't you hungry?"

"Meat!" he said scornfully. "I'm a vegetarian."

"You eat cheese enchiladas and aluminium cans," Percy reminded him.

"Those are vegetables. Come on. Let's leave. These statues are... looking at me."

Then the door creaked open, and standing in front of us was a tall Middle Eastern woman – at least, I assumed she was Middle Eastern, because she wore a long black gown that covered everything but her hands, and her head was completely veiled. Her eyes glinted behind a curtain of black gauze, but that was about all I could make out. Her coffee-colored hands looked old, but well manicured and elegant, so I imagined she was a grandmother who had once been a beautiful lady.

Her accent sounded vaguely Middle Eastern, too. She said, "Children, it is too late to be out all alone. Where are your parents?"

"They're... um..." I started to say.

"We're orphans," Percy blurted out.

"Orphans?" the woman said. The word sounded alien in her mouth. "But, my dears! Surely not!"

"We got separated from our caravan," he said. "Our circus caravan. The ringmaster told us to meet him at the gas station if we got lost, but he may have forgotten, or maybe he meant a different gas station. Anyway, we're lost. Is that food I smell?"

"Oh, my dears," the woman said. "You must come in, poor children. I am Aunty Em. Go straight through to the back of the warehouse, please. There is a dining area." We thanked her and went inside.

I muttered to Percy, "Circus caravan?"

"Always have a strategy, right?"

"Your head is full of kelp."

The warehouse was filled with more statues – people in all different poses, wearing all different outfits and with different expressions on their faces. I was thinking you'd have to have a pretty huge garden to fit even one of these statues, because they were all life-size. But mostly I was thinking about food. Go ahead, call me an idiot for walking into a strange lady's shop like that just because I was hungry. Plus, you've never smelled Aunty Em's burgers. The aroma was like laughing gas in the dentist's chair – it made everything else go away. I barely noticed Grover's nervous whimpers, or the way the statues' eyes seemed to follow me, or the fact that Aunty Em had locked the door behind us.

All I cared about was finding the dining area. And, sure enough, there it was at the back of the warehouse, a fast-food counter with a grill, a soda fountain, a pretzel heater and a nacho cheese dispenser. Everything you could want, plus a few steel picnic tables out front.

"Please, sit down," Aunty Em said.

"Awesome," Percy said.

"Um," Grover said reluctantly, "we don't have any money, ma'am."

Before I could jab him in the ribs, Aunty Em said, "No, no, children. No money. This is a special case, yes? It is my treat, for such nice orphans."

"Thank you, ma'am," I said. Aunty Em stiffened, like I had done something wrong, but then the old woman relaxed just as quickly, so I figured it must've been my imagination.

"Quite all right, Annabeth," she said. "You have such beautiful grey eyes, child."

I sat down slowly. I had never introduced myself to Aunty Em, which started to make me suspicious. I started racking my brain for any greek mythology stories about Aunty Em, but the name didn't ring any bells.

Our hostess disappeared behind the snack counter and started cooking. Before we knew it, she'd brought us plastic trays heaped with double cheeseburgers, vanilla shakes and XXL servings of French fries.

Percy was halfway through his burger before I saw him breathe.

I slurped my shake greedily.

Grover picked at the fries, and eyed the tray's waxed paper liner as if he might go for that, but he still looked too nervous to eat.

"What's that hissing noise?" he asked. I listened, but didn't hear anything. I shook my head.

"Hissing?" Aunty Em asked. "Perhaps you hear the deep-fryer oil. You have keen ears, Grover."

"I take vitamins. For my ears."

"That's admirable," she said. "But please, relax." Aunty Em ate nothing. She hadn't taken off her headdress, even to cook, and now she sat forward and interlaced her fingers and watched us eat.

Grover leaned into me. "Annabeth. There's something not right about this quest."

"You think?" I hissed back, "We just got attacked by all _three_ Kindly Ones."

"The way they said they were looking for Percy was weird."

"Yeah I know. They kept on saying 'Where is _it_?' I don't think they wanted Percy."

"So," Percy said, breaking the silence, "You sell gnomes,"

"Oh, yes," Aunty Em said. "And animals. And people. Anything for the garden. Custom orders. Statuary is very popular, you know."

"A lot of business on this road?"

"Not so much, no. Since the highway was built... most cars, they do not go this way now. I must cherish every customer I get."

I straightened and turned to look at a statue of a young girl holding an Easter basket. The detail was incredible, much better than you see in most garden statues. But something was wrong with her face. It looked as if she were startled, or even terrified.

"Ah," Aunty Em said sadly. "You notice some of my creations do not turn out well. They are marred. They do not sell. The face is the hardest to get right. Always the face."

"You make these statues yourself?" Percy asked.

"Oh, yes. Once upon a time, I had two sisters to help me in the business, but they have passed on, and Aunty Em is alone. I have only my statutes. This is why I make them, you see. They are my company."

I stopped eating, sat forward and said, "Two sisters?"

"It's a terrible story," Aunty Em said. "Not one for children, really. You see, Annabeth, a bad woman was jealous of me, long ago, when I was young. I had a... a boyfriend, you know, and this bad woman was determined to break us apart. She caused a terrible accident. My sisters stayed by me. They shared my bad fortune as long as they could, but eventually they passed on. They faded away. I alone have survived, but at a price. Such a price."

The story clicked in my head.

Aunty Em.

Aunty 'M'.

How could I have been so stupid? Think, I told myself. Medusa died in the myth by getting her head cut off by Percy's namesake, Perseus, though in the myth Medusa had been asleep when she was attacked She wasn't anywhere near asleep now. If she wanted, she could take those talons right now and rake open my face.

Percy's eyelids kept closing and opening slowly, as if he were about to pass out.

"Percy?" I shook him to get my attention. "Maybe we should go. I mean, the ringmaster will be waiting."

Percy looked at me warily and sloppily shook his head.

"Such beautiful grey eyes," Medusa told me again. "My, yes, it has been a long time since I've seen grey eyes like those." She reached out as if to stroke my cheek, but I stood up abruptly.

"We really should go."

"Yes!" Grover swallowed his waxed paper and stood up. "The ringmaster is waiting! Right!"

Percy stayed sitting, looking at Medusa expectantly.

"Please, dears," Medusa pleaded. "I so rarely get to be with children. Before you go, won't you at least sit for a pose?"

"A pose?" I asked warily. I wasn't positive Aunty Em was Medusa, but I did want to see if I was correct.

"A photograph. I will use it to model a new statue set. Children are so popular, you see. Everyone loves children."

I shifted my weight from foot to foot.

"I don't think we can, ma'am. Come on, Percy –"

"Sure we can," Percy said irritably. "It's just a photo, Annabeth. What's the harm?"

"Yes, Annabeth," the woman purred. "No harm."

I wanted to scream, but instead I allowed Medusa to lead us back out the front door, into the garden of statues. Medusa directed us to a park bench next to the stone satyr.

"Now," she said, "I'll just position you correctly. The young girl in the middle, I think, and the two young gentlemen on either side."

I could practically hear my brain spinning, trying to think of a way out of this.

"Not much light for a photo," Percy remarked. _I wonder why_ , I thought angrily.

"Oh, enough," Medusa said. "Enough for us to see each other, yes?"

"Where's your camera?" Grover asked. Medusa stepped back, as if to admire the shot.

"Now, the face is the most difficult. Can you smile for me please, everyone? A large smile?"

Grover glanced at the cement satyr next to him, and mumbled, "That sure does look like Uncle Ferdinand."

"Grover," Medusa chastised, "look this way, dear."

She still had no camera in her hands.

"Percy –" I said. I was positive now she was Medusa.

"I will just be a moment," Medusa said. "You know, I can't see you very well in this cursed veil..."

"Percy, something's wrong," I insisted.

"Wrong?" Medusa said, reaching up to undo the wrap around her head. "Not at all, dear. I have such noble company tonight. What could be wrong?"

"That is Uncle Ferdinand!" Grover gasped.

"Look away from her!" I shouted and whipped my Yankees cap on to my head and vanished. My invisible hands pushed Grover and Percy both off the bench. Percy was on the ground, looking at Aunt Em's sandaled feet while Grover scrambled off in one direction, and I went the other way. Percy was too dazed to move.

Then I heard a strange, rasping sound near me. I turned to see Percy's eyes rising to Medusa's hands, which had turned gnarled and warty, with sharp bronze talons for fingernails. He almost looked higher, but I screamed, "No! Don't!"

More rasping – the sound of tiny snakes, from about where Medusa's head would be.

"Run!" Grover bleated. I heard him racing across the gravel, yelling, "Maia!" to kick-start his flying sneakers.

Percy wasn't moving. He stared at Medusa's gnarled claws.

"Such a pity to destroy a handsome young face," she told him soothingly. "Stay with me, Percy. All you have to do is look up."

I watched him fight the urge to obey. Instead, he looked to one side towards one of those glass spheres people put in gardens – a gazing ball. I could see Medusa's dark reflection in the orange glass; her headdress was gone, revealing her face as a shimmering pale circle. Her hair was moving, writhing like serpents.

"The Grey-Eyed One did this to me, Percy," Medusa said, and she didn't sound anything like a monster. Her voice invited me to look up at her face, to sympathize with a poor old grandmother, even if she wasn't talking to me.

"Annabeth's mother, the cursed Athena, turned me from a beautiful woman into this."

"Don't listen to her!" I shouted. "Run, Percy!"

"Silence!" Medusa snarled at me. Then her voice modulated back to a comforting purr. "You see why I must destroy the girl, Percy. She is my enemy's daughter. I shall crush her statue to dust. But you, dear Percy, you need not suffer."

"No," he muttered and tried to make his legs move.

"Do you really want to help the gods?" Medusa asked. "Do you understand what awaits you on this foolish quest, Percy? What will happen if you reach the Underworld? Do not be a pawn of the Olympians, my dear. You would be better off as a statue. Less pain. Less pain."

Behind me, I heard a buzzing sound, like a ninety-kilogram hummingbird in a nosedive and instinctively ducked, Grover soared above me.

"Percy!" Grover yelled, "Duck!"

I looked up at Grover, who was in the night sky, flying in from twelve o'clock with his winged shoes fluttering, holding a tree branch the size of a baseball bat. His head twitched from side to side. He was navigating by ears and nose alone, his eyes shut.

"Duck!" he yelled again. "I'll get her!" That finally jolted him into action and he dove to one side.

_Thwack!_

At first I figured it was the sound of Grover hitting a tree. Then Medusa roared with rage.

"You miserable satyr," she snarled. "I'll add you to my collection!"

"That was for Uncle Ferdinand!" Grover yelled back. Percy scrambled away and hid in the statuary while Grover swooped down for another pass. I bolted towards Percy.

_Ker-whack!_

"Arrgh!" Medusa yelled, her snake-hair hissing and spitting.

"Percy!" I said and watched him jump so high his feet nearly cleared a garden gnome.

"Jeez! Don't do that!"

I took off my Yankees cap and became visible.

"You have to cut her head off."

"What? Are you crazy? Let's get out of here."

"Medusa is a menace. She's evil. I'd kill her myself, but..." I swallowed, not wanting to tell him I was scared.

Instead I said, "But you've got the better weapon. Besides, I'd never get close to her. She'd slice me to bits because of my mother. You – you've got a chance."

"What? I can't –"

"Look, do you want her turning more innocent people into statues?"

I pointed to a pair of statue lovers, a man and a woman with their arms around each other, turned to stone by the monster. I grabbed a green gazing ball from a nearby pedestal.

"A polished shield would be better." I studied the sphere critically. "The convexity will cause some distortion. The reflection's size should be off by a factor of –"

"Would you speak English?"

"I am!" I tossed him the glass ball. "Just look at her in the glass. Never look at her directly."

"Hey, guys!" Grover yelled somewhere above us. "I think she's unconscious!"

" _Roooaaarrr!_ "

"Maybe not," Grover corrected. He went in for another pass with the tree branch.

"Hurry," I told Percy. "Grover's got a great nose, but he'll eventually crash." He took out his pen and uncapped it. The bronze blade of his sword elongated in his hand.

I watched him through a different green gazing ball.

He was looking at his gazing ball, following the hissing and spitting sounds of Medusa's hair. He kept his eyes locked on the gazing ball so he would only glimpse Medusa's reflection, then he saw her.

His eyes grew wide as Grover soared in for another turn at bat, but this time he flew a little too low. Medusa grabbed the stick and pulled him off course. He tumbled through the air and crashed into the arms of a stone grizzly bear with a painful " _Ummphh!"_

Medusa was about to lunge at him when Percy yelled, "Hey!"

He advanced on her, which I assumed wasn't easy, holding a sword and a glass ball. If she charged, He would have a hard time defending himself. But she let him approach – ten metres, five metres.

"You wouldn't harm an old woman, Percy," she crooned. "I know you wouldn't."

He hesitated, fascinated by the face he saw reflected in the glass. From the cement grizzly, Grover moaned, "Percy, don't listen to her!"

Medusa cackled. "Too late." She lunged at Percy with her talons. He slashed up with his sword, and I heard a sickening _shlock!_ , then a hiss like wind rushing out of a cavern – the sound of a monster disintegrating. Her head fell to the ground next to Percy's foot.

I grabbed Medusa's black veil and went over to them, keeping my eyes at the ceiling the whole time.

"Oh, yuck," Grover said. His eyes were still tightly closed, but I guess he could hear the thing gurgling and steaming. "Mega-yuck."

"Don't move." I said, and very, very carefully, without looking down, I knelt and draped the monster's head in black cloth, then picked it up. It was still dripping green juice.

"Are you okay?" I asked Percy, my voice trembling despite myself.

He looked ready to throw up his double cheeseburger.

"Yeah," he said, "Why didn't... why didn't the head evaporate?"

"Once you sever it, it becomes a spoil of war," I said. "Same as your Minotaur horn. But don't unwrap the head. It can still petrify you."

Grover moaned as he climbed down from the grizzly statue. He had a big welt on his forehead. His green rasta cap hung from one of his little goat horns, and his fake feet had been knocked off his hooves. The magic sneakers were flying aimlessly around his head.

"The Red Baron," Percy said. "Good job, man." He managed a bashful grin.

"That really was not fun, though. Well, the hitting-her-with-a-stick part, that was fun. But crashing into a concrete bear? Not fun." He snatched his shoes out of the air. Percy recapped his sword.

Together, the three of us stumbled back to the warehouse. We found some old plastic grocery bags behind the snack counter and double-wrapped Medusa's head. We plopped it on the table where we'd eaten dinner and sat around it, too exhausted to speak.

Finally Percy said, "So we have Athena to thank for this monster?"

I flashed him an irritated look. "Your dad, actually. Don't you remember? Medusa was Poseidon's girlfriend. They decided to meet in my mother's temple. That's why Athena turned her into a monster. Medusa and her two sisters who had helped her get into the temple, they became the three gorgons. That's why Medusa wanted to slice me up, but she wanted to preserve you as a nice statue. She's still sweet on your dad. You probably reminded her of him."

Percy's face was burning. "Oh, so now it's my fault we met Medusa."

I straightened and imitated his voice, I said: "'It's just a photo, Annabeth. What's the harm?'"

"Forget it," he said. "You're impossible."

"You're insufferable."

"You're –"

"Hey!" Grover interrupted. "You two are giving me a migraine, and satyrs don't even get migraines. What are we going to do with the head?"

I stared at the thing. One little snake was hanging out of a hole in the plastic. The words printed on the side of the bag said: WE APPRECIATE YOUR BUSINESS!

Percy got up. He looked angry. "I'll be back."

"Percy," I called after him. "What are you doing?"

He came back with twenty dollars, a few golden drachmas, some packing slips for Hermes Overnight Express, each with a little leather bag attached for coins, and a box. I assumed he took them from the cash register.

Percy stuffed Medusa's head into the box, and filled out a delivery slip:

The Gods

Mount Olympus

600th Floor, Empire State Building

New York, NY

With best wishes,

PERCY JACKSON

"They're not going to like that," Grover warned. "They'll think you're impertinent."

Percy poured some golden drachmas in the pouch. As soon as he closed it, there was a sound like a cash register. The package floated off the table and disappeared with a _pop!_

"I am impertinent," he said and glared at me, daring me to criticize. I didn't. I accepted the fact that Percy had a major talent for ticking off the gods, and the fact he was going to die very young.

"Come on," I muttered. "We need a new plan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: why are some of these chapters are so freaking long. this one is 4k words long. i'm literally so scared that these will glitch out.  
> Also I'm so sorry I forgot to publish yesterday.


	9. (9) We Get Advice from a Poodle

We were pretty miserable that night.

We camped out in the woods, a hundred meters from the main road, in a marshy clearing that local kids had obviously been using for parties. The ground was littered with flattened soda cans and fast-food wrappers.

We'd taken some food and blankets from Aunty Em's, but we didn't dare light a fire to dry our damp clothes. The Furies and Medusa had provided enough excitement for one day. We didn't want to attract anything else.

We decided to sleep in shifts. Percy volunteered to take first watch. I curled up on the blankets and tried to sleep, but of course, none came.

I saw Grover flutter with his flying shoes to the lowest bough of a tree, put his back to the trunk, and stared at the night sky. I closed my eyes.

"Go ahead and sleep," Percy told him. "I'll wake you if there's trouble."

Silence. I wondered if Grover had gone to sleep until I heard him say, "It makes me sad, Percy."

"What does? The fact that you signed up for this stupid quest?"

"No. This makes me sad." I could tell he was pointing at the garbage on the ground. "And the sky. You can't even see the stars. They've polluted the sky. This is a terrible time to be a satyr."

"Oh, yeah. I guess you'd be an environmentalist."

I felt anger rise inside of me, and tried to push it away. Why is Percy so _rude_ sometimes?

"Only a human wouldn't be. Your species is clogging up the world so fast... ah, never mind. It's useless to lecture a human. At the rate things are going, I'll never find Pan."

"Pam? Like the cooking spray?"

"Pan!" he cried indignantly. "P-A-N. The great god Pan! What do you think I want a searcher's license for?"

A strange breeze rustled through the clearing, temporarily overpowering the stink of trash and muck. It brought the smell of berries and wildflowers and clean rainwater, things that might've once been in these woods. Suddenly I was homesick. It reminded me of camp.

"Tell me about the search," Percy said.

Grover hesitated, before saying, "The God of Wild Places disappeared two thousand years ago. A sailor off the coast of Ephesos heard a mysterious voice crying out from the shore, "Tell them that the great god Pan has died!" When humans heard the news, they believed it. They've been pillaging Pan's kingdom ever since. But for the satyrs, Pan was our lord and master. He protected us and the wild places of the earth. We refuse to believe that he died. In every generation, the bravest satyrs pledge their lives to finding Pan. They search the earth, exploring all the wildest places, hoping to find where he is hidden and wake him from his sleep."

"And you want to be a searcher."

"It's my life's dream," Grover said wistfully. "My father was a searcher. And my Uncle Ferdinand... the statue you saw back there –"

"Oh, right, sorry."

"Uncle Ferdinand knew the risks. So did my dad. But I'll succeed. I'll be the first searcher to return alive."

"Hang on – the first?" I heard Grover turning his reed pipes in his hand.

"No searcher has ever come back. Once they set out, they disappear. They're never seen alive again."

"Not once in two thousand years?"

"No."

"And your dad? You have no idea what happened to him?"

"None."

"But you still want to go," I could hear the amazement in Percy's voice. "I mean, you really think you'll be the one to find Pan?"

"I have to believe that, Percy. Every searcher does. It's the only thing that keeps us from despair when we look at what humans have done to the world. I have to believe Pan can still be awakened."

"How are we going to get into the Underworld?" Percy asked him. "I mean, what chance do we have against a god?"

"I don't know," Grover admitted. "But back at Medusa's, when you were busy stuffing your face with food? Annabeth was telling me –"

"Oh, I forgot. Annabeth will have a plan all figured out."

Why does Percy have to be such a douche? I'm sorry for trying to survive and to see the world. I'm sorry for trying to make sure you don't get killed. He hasn't done anything besides almost killing us five different times.

"Don't be so hard on her, Percy. She's had a tough life, but she's a good person. After all, she forgave me..." His voice faltered.

"What do you mean?" Percy asked. "Forgave you for what?"

Grover didn't respond.

"Wait a minute," Percy said. "Your first keeper job was five years ago. Annabeth has been at camp five years. She wasn't... I mean, your first assignment that went wrong –"

"I can't talk about it," Grover's voice shook. "But as I was saying, back at Medusas, Annabeth and I agreed there's something strange going on with this quest. Something isn't what it seems."

"Well, duh. I'm getting blamed for stealing a thunderbolt that Hades took."

"That's not what I mean," Grover said. "The Fu – The Kindly Ones were sort of holding back. Like Mrs Dodds at Yancy Academy... why did she wait so long to try to kill you? Then on the bus, they just weren't as aggressive as they could've been."

"They seemed plenty aggressive to me."

"They were screeching at us: "'Where is it? Where?'"

"Asking about me," Percy said.

"Maybe... but Annabeth and I, we both got the feeling they weren't asking about a person. They said "Where is _it_?" They seemed to be asking about an object."

"That doesn't make sense."

"I know. But if we've misunderstood something about this quest, and we only have nine days to find the master bolt..."

They sat in silence.

"I haven't been straight with you," Percy told Grover. "I don't care about the master bolt. I agreed to go to the Underworld so I could bring back my mother."

I rolled my eyes. Does he really think we're that dumb?

Grover blew a soft note on his pipes. "I know that, Percy. But are you sure that's the only reason?"

"I'm not doing it to help my father. He doesn't care about me. I don't care about him."

"Look, Percy, I'm not as smart as Annabeth. I'm not as brave as you. But I'm pretty good at reading emotions. You're glad your dad is alive. You feel good that he's claimed you, and part of you wants to make him proud. That's why you mailed Medusa's head to Olympus. You wanted him to notice what you'd done."

"Yeah? Well maybe satyr emotions work differently than human emotions. Because you're wrong. I don't care what he thinks."

"Okay, Percy. Whatever."

"Besides, I haven't done anything worth bragging about. We barely got out of New York and we're stuck here with no money and no way west."

"How about I take first watch, huh? You get some sleep."

Grover started to play Mozart, soft and sweet, and my eyelids felt more droopy. After a few bars of Piano Concerto no. 12, I was asleep.

I woke to someone shaking me.

"Huh? What's up?" I asked groggily, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

"I'm bored so I'm going exploring, don't die while I'm gone."

"M'kay. Cya later."

A few minutes later I was chewing on some nacho-flavored corn chips from Aunty Em's snack bar. I watched as Grover walked back to our camping spot with a bright pink poodle trailing behind him.

"One, why is it pink? Two, why is it pink?"

Grover shrugged. "This is Gladiola, say hi."

"Um, okay... Hi Gladiola it's nice to meet you."

Gladiola barked at me happily.

I reached over and shook Percy.

"Wake up Percy. Percy. Wake. Up."

Percy opened his eyes.

"Well," I said, "the zombie lives."

He was trembling, probably from a dream.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Long enough for me to cook breakfast." I tossed him a bag of nacho-flavored corn chips.

"And Grover went exploring. Look, he found a friend."

Percy's eyes had trouble focusing, when they did focus he just stared at Grover, who was sitting cross-legged on a blanket with Gladiola in his lap.

The poodle yapped at Percy suspiciously.

Grover said, "No, he's not."

Percy blinked. "Are you... talking to that thing?"

Gladiola growled.

"This thing," Grover warned, "is our ticket west. Be nice to him."

"You can talk to animals?"

Grover ignored the question. "Percy, meet Gladiola. Gladiola, Percy." Percy stared at me, probably thinking that this was a joke.

"I'm not saying hello to a pink poodle," he said. "Forget it."

"Percy, I said hello to the poodle. You say hello to the poodle."

The poodle growled.

Percy said hello to the poodle.

Grover explained to us that he'd come across Gladiola in the woods and they'd struck up a conversation. The poodle had run away from a rich local family, who'd posted a $200 reward for his return. Gladiola didn't really want to go back to his family, but he was willing to if it meant helping Grover.

"How does Gladiola know about the reward?" Percy asked.

"He read the signs," Grover said. "Duh."

I snickered.

"Of course," Percy said. "Silly me."

"So we turn in Gladiola," I explained in my best strategy voice, "we get money and we buy tickets to Los Angeles. Simple."

"Not another bus," he said warily.

"No," I agreed and pointed downhill, towards train tracks I hadn't been able to see last night in the dark.

"There's an Amtrack station half a mile that way. According to Gladiola, the westbound train leaves at noon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: i'm sorry I didn't post anything last week, I've been busy with school and didn't have the time to write anything. Also, this chapter is so short compared to my last because I'm trying to do the chapters like the way Rick Riordan has them in the books, so I'm sorry about that!!


	10. Percy Almost Dies. Again.

We spent two days on the Amtrak train, heading west through hills, over rivers, past amber waves of grain.  
  
We weren't attacked once, but I didn't relax. I felt that we were traveling around in a display case, being watched from above and maybe from below, that something was waiting for the right opportunity.  
  
Percy tried to keep a low profile because his name and picture were splattered over the front pages of several East Coast newspapers. The Trenton Register-News showed a photo taken by a tourist as he got off the Greyhound bus. Percy had a wild look in his eyes. His sword was a metallic blur in his hands. It might've been a baseball bat or a lacrosse stick. The picture's caption read:  
  


Twelve-year-old Percy Jackson, wanted for questioning in the Long Island disappearance of his mother two weeks ago, is shown here fleeing from the bus where he accosted several elderly female passengers. The bus exploded on an east New Jersey roadside shortly after Jackson fled the scene. Based on eyewitness accounts, police believe the boy may be travelling with two teenage accomplices. His stepfather, Gabe Ugliano, has offered a cash reward for information leading to his capture.

  
"Don't worry," I told Percy. "Mortal police could never find us." But I even heard the doubt in my voice.   
  
The rest of the day consisted of Percy pacing the length of the train, Grover sleeping, and me staring out the window.  
  
Once, I spotted a family of centaurs galloping across a wheat field, bows at the ready, as they hunted lunch. The little boy centaur, who was the size of a second-grader on a pony, waved at something.  
  
Another time, towards evening, I saw something huge moving through the woods. I could've sworn it was a lion, except that lions don't live wild in America, and this thing was the size of a tank. Its fur glinted gold in the evening light. Then it leaped through the trees and was gone.  
  


_Maybe it was from a Greek myth_ , I thought. But I didn't try to think of which Greek myth.  
  
Our reward money for returning Gladiola the poodle had only been enough to purchase tickets as far as Denver. We couldn't get berths in the sleeper car, so we dozed in our seats. My neck got stiff. Percy kept muttering nonsense in his sleep. I could see Percy's drooling up close since I was sitting right next to him. Not fun.  
  
Grover kept snoring and bleating and waking me up. Once, he shuffled around and his fake foot fell off. Percy and I had to stick it back on before any of the other passengers noticed.  
  
"So," I asked Percy, once we'd got Grover's trainer readjusted. "Who wants your help?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"When you were asleep just now, you mumbled, "I won't help you." Who were you dreaming about?"  
  
Percy reluctantly told me about his dream, an evil voice from the pit, asking Percy for the lighting bolt.  
  
I was quiet for a long time. "That doesn't sound like Hades. He always appears on a black throne, and he never laughs."  
  
"He offered my mother in trade. Who else could do that?"  
  
"I guess... if he meant, "Help me rise from the Underworld." If he wants war with the Olympians. But why ask you to bring him the master bolt if he already has it?"  
  
Percy shook his head, and I wished for not the first time, that I knew the answer. I thought about what me and Grover had talked about, that the Furies on the bus seemed to have been looking for something.  
  
Where is it? Where?  
  
Maybe Grover sensed my emotions. He snorted in his sleep, muttered something about vegetables and turned his head.  
  
I readjusted his cap so it covered his horns. "Percy, you can't barter with Hades. You know that, right? He's deceitful, heartless and greedy. I don't care if his Kindly Ones weren't as aggressive this time –"  
  
"This time?" Percy asked. "You mean you've run into them before?"  
  
My hand crept up to my necklace. I fingered a glazed white bead painted with the image of a pine tree, one of my clay end-of-summer tokens. The bead for Thalia.  
  
"Let's just say I've got no love for the Lord of the Dead. You can't be tempted to make a deal for your mom."  
  
"What would you do if it was your dad?"  
  
"That's easy," I said. "I'd leave him to rot."  
  
"You're not serious?"  
  
I fixed my eyes onto Percy's sea green ones. I would not be weak.  
  
"My dad's resented me since the day I was born, Percy. He never wanted a baby. When he got me, he asked Athena to take me back and raise me on Olympus because he was too busy with his work. She wasn't happy about that. She told him heroes had to be raised by their mortal parent."  
  
"But how... I mean, I guess you weren't born in a hospital..."  
  
"I appeared on my father's doorstep, in a golden cradle, carried down from Olympus by Zephyr the West Wind. You'd think my dad would remember that as a miracle, right? Like, maybe he'd take some digital photos or something. But he always talked about my arrival as if it were the most inconvenient thing that had ever happened to him. When I was five he got married and totally forgot about Athena. He got a "regular" mortal wife, and had two "regular" mortal kids, and tried to pretend I didn't exist."  
  
Percy stared out the train window. I started to think telling Percy about myself was a bad idea until he said, "My mom married a really awful guy," he told me. "Grover said she did it to protect me, to hide me in the scent of a human family. Maybe that's what your dad was thinking."  
  
I fiddled with a ring that was on my necklace. It belonged to my father.   
  
"He doesn't care about me," I said. "His wife – my stepmom – treated me like a freak. She wouldn't let me play with her children. My dad went along with her. Whenever something dangerous happened – you know, something with monsters – they would both look at me resentfully, like, "How dare you put our family at risk!" Finally, I took the hint. I wasn't wanted. I ran away."  
  
"How old were you?"  
  
"Same age as when I started camp. Seven."  
  
"But... you couldn't have got all the way to Half-Blood Hill by yourself."  
  
"Not alone, no. Athena watched over me, guided me towards help. I made a couple of unexpected friends who took care of me, for a short time, anyway." I decided I didn't want to tell him about Luke and Thalia. Not yet at least.  
  
I listened to the sound of Grover snoring and gazed out the train windows as the dark fields of Ohio raced by.  
  
Towards the end of our second day on the train, June 13, eight days before the summer solstice, we passed through some golden hills and over the Mississippi River into St Louis.  
  
I craned my neck to see the Gateway Arch, and sighed.  
  
"I want to do that."  
  
"What?" Percy asked.  
  
"Build something like that. You ever see the Parthenon, Percy?"  
  
"Only in pictures."  
  
"Someday, I'm going to see it in person. I'm going to build the greatest monument to the gods ever. Something that'll last a thousand years."  
  
Percy laughed and my cheeks flushed.  
  
"You? An architect?"  
  
"Yes, an architect. Athena expects her children to create things, not just tear them down, like a certain god of earthquakes I could mention."  
  
Percy watched the churning brown water of the Mississippi below.  
  
"Sorry," I said. "That was mean."  
  
"Can't we work together a little?" Percy pleaded. "I mean, didn't Athena and Poseidon ever cooperate?"  
  
I thought about it. "I guess... the chariot," I said tentatively. "My mom invented it, but Poseidon created horses out of the crests of waves. So they had to work together to make it complete."  
  
"Then we can cooperate, too. Right?"  
  
We rode into the city, and I watched as the Arch disappeared behind a hotel.  
  
"I suppose," I said at last.  
  
We pulled into the Amtrak station downtown. The intercom told us we'd have a three-hour stopover before departing for Denver.  
  
Grover stretched. Before he was even fully awake, he said, "Food."  
  
"Come on, goat boy," I said excitedly. "Sightseeing."  
  
"Sightseeing?"  
  
"The Gateway Arch," I said. 'This may be my only chance to ride to the top. Are you coming or not?"  
  
Grover and Percy exchanged looks.  
  
Grover shrugged. "As long as there's a snack bar without monsters."  
  
  
The Arch was about a mile from the train station. Late in the day the lines to get in weren't that long.  
  
We threaded our way through the underground museum, looking at covered wagons and other things from the 1800s. It was really thrilling, and I kept telling them interesting facts about how the Arch was built, and Grover kept passing Percy jelly beans, so I figured they were fine.  
  
"You smell anything?" Percy murmured to Grover.  
  
He took his nose out of the jelly-bean bag long enough to sniff.  
  
"Underground," he said distastefully. "Underground air always smells like monsters. Probably doesn't mean anything."  
  
Something told me that there was something wrong, but I ignored it. I wanted to enjoy the Gateway Arch.  
  
"Guys," Percy said. "You know the gods' symbols of power?"  
  
I was in the middle of reading about the construction equipment used to build the Arch, but I looked over. "Yeah?"  
  
"Well, Hade –"  
  
Grover cleared his throat. "We're in a public place... You mean, our friend downstairs?"  
  
"Um, right," he said. "Our friend  
way  
downstairs. Doesn't he have a hat like Annabeth's?"  
  
"You mean the Helm of Darkness," I said. "Yeah, that's his symbol of power. I saw it next to his seat during the winter solstice council meeting."  
  
"He was there?" He asked.  
  
I nodded. "It's the only time he's allowed to visit Olympus – the darkest day of the year. But his helmet is a lot more powerful than my invisibility hat, if what I've heard is true..."  
  
"It allows him to become darkness," Grover confirmed. "He can melt into shadow or pass through walls. He can't be touched, or seen, or heard. And he can radiate fear so intense it can drive you insane or stop your heart. Why do you think all rational creatures fear the dark?"  
  
"But then... how do we know he's not here right now, watching us?" Percy asked.  
  
Grover and I exchanged looks.  
  
"We don't," Grover said.  
  
"Thanks, that makes me feel a lot better," Percy said. "Got any blue jelly beans left?"  
  
I saw the tiny little elevator car we were going to ride to the top of the Arch, which was probably a bad idea seeing how Percy was a child of Big Three, but it was crowded, a monster wouldn't attack. Would they?  
  
We got shoehorned into the car with this big fat lady and her dog, a Chihuahua with a rhinestone collar. I figured maybe the dog was a seeing-eye Chihuahua, because none of the guards said a word about it.  
  
We started going up, inside the Arch. Percy looked green, and it was probably the fact that the elevator curved.  
  
"No parents?" the fat lady asked us.  
  
She had beady eyes; pointy, coffee-stained teeth; a floppy denim hat, and a denim dress that bulged so much she looked like a blue-jean blimp.  
  
"They're below," I told her before Percy could say something stupid. "Scared of heights."  
  
"Oh, the poor darlings."  
  
The Chihuahua growled. The woman said, "Now, now, sonny. Behave." The dog had beady eyes like its owner, intelligent and vicious.  
  
Percy said, "Sonny. Is that his name?"  
  
"No," the lady told him and smiled, as if that cleared everything up.  
  
At the top of the Arch, the observation deck reminded me of a tin can with carpeting. Rows of tiny windows looked out over the city on one side and the river on the other. The view was amazing, but Percy was ready to go pretty quick. I think he was afraid of heights.  
  
I couldn't help myself, I talked about structural supports, and how I would've made the windows bigger, and designed a see-through floor. I could've stayed up there for hours, but luckily for Percy the park ranger announced that the observation deck would be closing in a few minutes.  
  
Percy steered Grover and I towards the exit, loaded us into the elevator and was about to get in myself when I realized there were already two other tourists inside. No room for Percy.  
  
The park ranger said, "Next car, sir."  
  
"We'll get out," I said. "Well wait with you."  
  
Percy shook his head and said, "Naw, it's okay. I'll see you guys at the bottom."  
  
Grove looked nervous as I felt, but we let the elevator door slide shut. Their car disappeared down the ramp.  
  
"Annabeth," Grover tugged at my shirt. "I think we should've stayed with him. I smell monsters."  
  
Just then I heard a roar that shook the elevator.  
  
"Grover. The Chihuahua, could that've been the monster?"  
  
"Maybe, I dunno. Where is it?"  
  
"It's with Percy."

  
* * *

  
By the time we had reached the bottom of the Gateway Arch, the top was on fire. One of the security guards wouldn't let us back up there, saying it was "too dangerous". As if I hadn't seen danger before.  
  
We ran outside just in time to see a small dot falling from the Arch. I gripped Grover's arm.  
  
"He's not that stupid... is he?"  
  
And then the dot hit the water and disappeared. I wasn't sure if Percy had survived the fall. Yeah his dad was Poseidon but that was over 200 meters tall.   
  
We sat in silence, waiting for Percy to resurface, and when he did came ashore next to a floating McDonald's. A block away, every emergency vehicle in St Louis was surrounding the Arch. Police helicopters circled overhead. The crowd of onlookers reminded me of Times Square on New Year's Eve.  
  
I heard a little girl say, "Mama! That boy walked out of the river."  
  
"That's nice, dear," her mother said, craning her neck to watch the ambulances.  
  
"But he's dry!"  
  
"That's nice, dear."   
  
I turned to Grover, who was already tackling Percy into a bear hug – or goat hug. He said, "We thought you'd gone to Hades the hard way!"  
  
I stood behind him, trying to look angry, but I was relieved to see him.  
  
"We can't leave you alone for five minutes! What happened?"  
  
"I sort of fell."  
  
"Percy! Two hundred meters?"  
  
Behind us, a cop shouted, "Gangway!" The crowd parted, and a couple of paramedics hustled out, rolling a woman on a stretcher. I recognized her as the mother of the little boy who'd been on the observation deck with us.  
  
She was saying, "And then this huge dog, this huge fire-breathing Chihuahua –"  
  
"Okay, ma'am," the paramedic said. "Just calm down. Your family is fine. The medication is starting to kick in."  
  
"I'm not crazy! This boy jumped out of the hole and the monster disappeared."  
  
Then she saw Percy. "There he is! That's the boy!" Percy turned quickly and pulled Grover and I after him. We disappeared into the crowd.  
  
"What's going on?" I demanded. "Was she talking about the Chihuahua on the elevator?"  
  
He told us the whole story of the Chimera, Echidna, his high-dive act, the underwater lady's message.  
  
"Whoa," said Grover. "We've got to get you to Santa Monica! You can't ignore a summons from your dad."  
  
Before I could respond, we passed another reporter doing a news break, and Percy froze in his tracks when he said, "Percy Jackson. That's right, Dan. Channel Twelve has learned that the boy who may have caused this explosion fits the description of a young man wanted by the authorities for a serious New Jersey bus accident three days ago. And the boy is believed to be travelling west. For our viewers at home, here is a photo of Percy Jackson."  
  
We ducked around the news van and slipped into an alley.  
  
"First things first," Percy told us. "We've got to get out of town!"  
  
Somehow, we made it back to the Amtrak station without getting spotted. We got on board the train just before it pulled out for Denver. The train trundled west as darkness fell, police lights still pulsing against the St Louis skyline behind us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: i love the title of this chapter lmao i'm so smart. hehe. And I'm sorry for not posting this yesterday, I forgot to click publish!!


	11. A God Buys Us Cheeseburgers

The next afternoon, June 14, seven days before the solstice, our train rolled into Denver. We hadn't eaten since the night before in the dining car, somewhere in Kansas. We hadn't taken a shower since Half-Blood Hill, and I was sure that was obvious.

"Let's try to contact Chiron," I said. "I want to tell him about your talk with the river spirit."

"We can't use phones, right?"

"I'm not talking about phones."

We wandered through downtown for about half an hour, trying to find anything that could be used to make a rainbow. The air was dry and hot, which felt weird after the humidity of St Louis. Everywhere we turned, the Rocky Mountains seemed to be staring at me, like a tidal wave about to crash into the city.

Finally I found an empty do-it-yourself car wash. I steered everyone towards the stall furthest from the street, keeping our eyes open for patrol cars. We were three adolescents hanging out at a car wash without a car; any cop worth his doughnuts would figure we were up to no good.

"What exactly are we doing?" Percy asked, as Grover took out the spray gun.

"It's seventy-five cents," he grumbled. "I've only got two quarters left. Annabeth?"

"Don't look at me," I said. "The dining car wiped me out."

Percy fished out his last bit of change and passed Grover a quarter.

"Excellent," Grover said. "We could do it with a spray bottle, of course, but the connection isn't as good, and my arm gets tired of pumping."

"What are you talking about?"

He fed in the quarters and set the knob to fine mist "I-M'ing."

"Instant messaging?"

"Iris-messaging," I corrected. "The rainbow goddess Iris carries messages for the gods. If you know how to ask, and she's not too busy, she'll do the same for half-bloods."

"You summon the goddess with a spray gun?" Grover pointed the nozzle in the air and water hissed out in a thick white mist.

"Unless you know an easier way to make a rainbow." Sure enough, late afternoon light filtered through the vapor and broke into colors. I held my palm out to Percy.

"Drachma, please." He handed it over. I raised the coin over my head.

"O goddess, accept our offering." I threw the drachma into the rainbow. It disappeared in a golden shimmer.

"Half-Blood Hill," I requested. For a moment, nothing happened. Then I was looking through the mist at strawberry fields, and the Long Island Sound in the distance. We seemed to be on the porch of the Big House. Standing with his back to us at the railing was a sandy-haired guy in shorts and an orange tank top. He was holding a bronze sword and seemed to be staring intently at something down in the meadow.

"Luke!" Percy called. He turned, eyes wide. I could swear he was standing a meter in front of me through a screen of mist, except I could only see the part of him that appeared in the rainbow.

"Percy!" His scarred face broke into a grin. "Is that Annabeth, too? Thank the gods! Are you guys okay?"

"We're... uh... fine," I stammered and tried to straighten my dirty T-shirt, trying to comb the loose hair out of my face.

"We thought – Chiron – I mean –"

"He's down at the cabins." Luke's smile faded. "We're having some issues with the campers. Listen, is everything cool with you? Is Grover all right?"

"I'm right here," Grover called. He held the nozzle out to one side and stepped into Luke's line of vision.

"What kind of issues?" Just then a big Lincoln Continental pulled into the car wash with its stereo turned to maximum hip hop. As the car slid into the next stall, the bass from the subwoofers vibrated so much, it shook the pavement.

"Chiron had to – what's that noise?" Luke yelled.

"I'll take care of it!" I yelled back, relieved to have an excuse to get out of sight.

"Grover, come on!"

"What?" Grover said. "But –"

"Give Percy the nozzle and come on!" I ordered.

Grover muttered something about girls being harder to understand than the Oracle at Delphi, then he handed Percy the spray gun and followed me.

In the next stall, I started arguing with some guy in his car trying to get him to turn down his volume and leave, then finally he decreased the music's volume but kept arguing with us. Grover took two spray guns, handed one to me and aimed it at the car's window and sprayed.

Once the car was gone, leaving a trail of water following after it, Grover and I came around the corner, laughing, but stopped when we saw Percy's face. My smile faded.

"'What happened, Percy? What did Luke say?"

"Not much. Come on, let's find some dinner."

Percy looked sick and I wanted to ask him what they had talked about, but Grover locked eyes with me and he shook his head.

A few minutes later, we were sitting at a booth in a gleaming chrome diner. All around us, families were eating burgers and drinking milkshakes and sodas. Finally the waitress came over. She raised her eyebrow skeptically.

"Well?"

Percy said, "We, um, want to order dinner."

"You kids have money to pay for it?"

Grover's lower lip quivered. I was afraid he would start bleating, or worse, start eating the linoleum. I was ready to pass out from hunger and I couldn't think straight. I was trying to think up a sob story for the waitress when a rumble shook the whole building; a motorcycle the size of a baby elephant had pulled up to the kerb.

All conversation in the diner stopped. The motorcycle's headlight glared red. Its gas tank had flames painted on it, and a shotgun holster riveted to either side, complete with shotguns. The seat was leather – but leather that looked like... well, Caucasian human skin. The guy on the bike would've made pro wrestlers run for Mama. He was dressed in a red muscle shirt and black jeans and a black leather duster, with a hunting knife strapped to his thigh. He wore red wraparound shades, and he had the cruelest, most brutal face I'd ever seen – handsome, I guess, but wicked – with an oily black crew cut and cheeks that were scarred from many, many fights. The weird thing was, I felt like I'd seen his face somewhere before.

As he walked into the diner, a hot, dry wind blew through the place. All the people rose, as if they were hypnotized, but the biker waved his hand dismissively and they all sat down again. Everybody went back to their conversations. The waitress blinked, as if somebody had just pressed the rewind button on her brain. She asked us again, "You kids have money to pay for it?"

The biker said, "It's on me."

He slid into our booth, which was way too small for him, and crowded me against the window. He looked up at the waitress, who was gaping at him, and said, "Are you still here?" He pointed at her, and she stiffened. She turned as if she'd been spun around, then marched back towards the kitchen. The biker looked at Percy.

His eyes were hidden behind the red shades, but bad feelings started boiling in my stomach. Anger, resentment, bitterness. Then it dawned on me. This guy was Ares, the war god.

He gave me a wicked grin. "So you're old Seaweed's kid, huh?"

"What's it to you?"

I glared at Percy. "Percy, this is –"

Ares raised his hand.

"S'okay," he said. "I don't mind a little attitude. Long as you remember who's the boss. You know who I am, little cousin?"

"You're Clarisse's dad," Percy said. Turns out he's not as dumb as he acts out to be. "Ares, god of war."

Ares grinned and took off his shades. Where his eyes should've been, there was only fire, empty sockets glowing with miniature nuclear explosions.

"That's right, punk. I heard you broke Clarisse's spear."

"She was asking for it."

"Probably. That's cool. I don't fight my kids' fights, you know? What I'm here for – I heard you were in town. I got a little proposition for you."

The waitress came back with heaping trays of food – cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings and chocolate shakes. Ares handed her a few gold drachmas. She looked nervously at the coins.

"But, these aren't..."

Ares pulled out his huge knife and started cleaning his fingernails. "Problem, sweetheart?"

The waitress swallowed, then left with the gold.

"You can't do that," Percy told Ares. "You can't just threaten people with a knife."

Ares laughed. "Are you kidding? I love this country. Best place since Sparta. Don't you carry a weapon, punk? You should. Dangerous world out there. Which brings me to my proposition. I need you to do me a favor."

"What favor could I do for a god?"

"Something a god doesn't have time to do himself. It's nothing much. I left my shield at an abandoned water park here in town. I was going on a little... date with my girlfriend. We were interrupted. I left my shield behind. I want you to fetch it for me."

"Why don't you go back and get it yourself?"

The fire in Ares eye sockets glowed a little hotter.

"Why don't I turn you into a prairie dog and run you over with my Harley? Because I don't feel like it. A god is giving you an opportunity to prove yourself, Percy Jackson. Will you prove yourself a coward?" He leaned forward. "Or maybe you only fight when there's a river to dive into, so your daddy can protect you."

Percy struggled with his emotions. "We're not interested," he said. "We've already got a quest."

Ares's fiery eyes bored into Percy's. "I know all about your quest, punk. When that item was first stolen, Zeus sent his best out looking for it: Apollo, Athena, Artemis and me, naturally. If I couldn't sniff out a weapon that powerful..." He licked his lips, as if the very thought of the master bolt made him hungry. "Well... if I couldn't find it, you got no hope. Nevertheless, I'm trying to give you the benefit of a doubt. Your dad and I go way back. After all, I'm the one who told him my suspicions about old Corpse Breath."

"You told him Hades stole the bolt?"

"Sure. Framing somebody to start a war. Oldest trick in the book. I recognized it immediately. In a way, you got me to thank for your little quest."

"Thanks," Percy grumbled.

"Hey, I'm a generous guy. Just do my little job, and I'll help you on your way. I'll arrange a ride west for you and your friends."

"We're doing fine on our own."

"Yeah, right. No money. No wheels. No clue what you're up against. Help me out, and maybe I'll tell you something you need to know. Something about your mom."

"My mom?"

He grinned. "That got your attention. The water park is a mile west on Delancy. You can't miss it. Look for the Tunnel of Love ride."

"What interrupted your date?" Percy asked. "Something scare you off?"

Ares bared his teeth at him, but I'd seen his threatening look before on Clarisse. There was something false about it, almost like he was nervous.

"You're lucky you met me, punk, and not one of the other Olympians. They're not as forgiving of rudeness as I am. I'll meet you back here when you're done. Don't disappoint me."

After that I must have fainted, or fallen into a trance, because when I opened my eyes again Ares was gone.

"Not good," Grover said. "Ares sought you out, Percy. This is not good."

Percy stared out the window. Now that Ares was gone, all the anger had drained out of me. I realized Ares must love to mess with people's emotions. That was his power – cranking up the passions so badly, they clouded your ability to think.

"It's probably some kind of trick," Percy said. "Forget Ares. Let's just go."

"We can't," I said. "Look, I hate Ares as much as anybody, but you don't ignore the gods unless you want serious bad fortune. He wasn't kidding about turning you into a rodent."

Percy looked down at his cheeseburger. "Why does he need us?"

"Maybe it's a problem that requires brains," I suggested. "Ares has strength. That's all he has. Even strength has to bow to wisdom sometimes."

"But this water park... he acted almost scared. What would make a war god run away like that?"

Grover and I glanced nervously at each other.

I said, "I'm afraid we'll have to find out."

* * *

The sun was sinking behind the mountains by the time we found the water park. Judging from the sign, it once had been called WATERLAND, but now some of the letters were smashed out, so it read WAT R A D.

The main gate was padlocked and topped with barbed wire. Inside, huge dry waterslides and tubes and pipes curled everywhere, leading to empty pools. Old tickets and advertisements fluttered around the tarmac. With night coming on, the place looked sad and creepy.

"If Ares brings his girlfriend here for a date," Percy said, staring up at the barbed wire, "I'd hate to see what she looks like."

"Percy," I warned. "Be more respectful."

How daft can he be?

"Why? I thought you hated Ares."

"He's still a god. And his girlfriend is very temperamental."

"You don't want to insult her looks," Grover added.

"Who is she? Echidna?"

"No, Aphrodite," Grover said, a little dreamily. "Goddess of love."

"I thought she was married to somebody," Percy said. "Hephaestus."

"What's your point?" I asked.

"Oh... So how do we get in?" Percy said, hastily changing the subject.

"Maia!" Grover's shoes sprouted wings. He flew over the fence, did an unintended somersault in midair, then stumbled to a landing on the opposite side. He dusted off his jeans, as if he'd planned the whole thing.

"You guys coming?"

Percy and I had to climb the old-fashioned way, holding down the barbed wire for each other as we crawled over the top. The shadows grew long as we walked through the park, checking out the attractions. There was Ankle Biter Island, Head Over Wedgie and Dude, Where's My Swimsuit?

No monsters came to get us. Nothing made the slightest noise.

We found a souvenir shop that had been left open. Merchandise still lined the shelves: snow globes, pencils, postcards and racks of –

"Clothes," I said. "Fresh clothes."

"Yeah," Percy said. "But you can't just –"

"Watch me." I snatched an entire row of stuff off the racks and disappeared into the changing room. A few minutes later I came out in Waterland flower-print shorts, a big red Waterland T-shirt and commemorative Waterland surf shoes. A Waterland backpack was slung over my shoulder, stuffed with goodies.

"What the heck." Grover shrugged.

Soon, all three of us were decked out like walking advertisements for the defunct theme park. We continued searching for the Tunnel of Love. I got the feeling that the whole park was holding its breath.

"So Ares and Aphrodite," Percy said, "they have a thing going?"

"That's old gossip, Percy," I told him. "Three-thousand-year-old gossip."

"What about Aphrodite's husband?"

"Well, you know," I said. "Hephaestus. The blacksmith. He was crippled when he was a baby, thrown off Mount Olympus by Zeus. So he isn't exactly handsome. Clever with his hands and all, but Aphrodite isn't into brains and talent, you know?"

"She likes bikers."

"Whatever."

"Hephaestus knows?"

"Oh sure," I said. "He caught them together once. I mean, literally caught them, in a golden net, and invited all the gods to come and laugh at them. Hephaestus is always trying to embarrass them. That's why they meet in out-of-the-way places, like..." I stopped, looking straight ahead. "Like that."

In front of us was an empty pool that was at least fifty meters across and shaped like a bowl. Around the rim, a dozen bronze statues of Cupid stood guard with wings spread and bows ready to fire. On the opposite side from us, a tunnel opened up, probably where the water flowed into when the pool was full. The sign above it read: THRILL RIDE O' LOVE: THIS IS NOT YOUR PARENTS' TUNNEL OF LOVE!

Grover crept towards the edge. "Guys, look."

Marooned at the bottom of the pool was a pink-and-white two-seater boat with a canopy over the top and little hearts painted all over it. In the left seat, glinting in the fading light, was Ares's shield, a polished circle of bronze.

"This is too easy," Percy said. "So we just walk down there and get it?"

I ran my fingers along the base of the nearest Cupid statue.

"There's a Greek letter carved here," I said. "Eta. I wonder..."

"Grover," Percy said, "you smell any monsters?"

He sniffed the wind. "Nothing."

"Nothing – like, in-the-Arch-and-you-didn't-smell-Echidna nothing, or really nothing?"

Grover looked hurt. "I told you, that was underground."

"Okay, I'm sorry." Percy took a deep breath. "I'm going down there."

"I'll go with you." Grover didn't sound too enthusiastic, but I got the feeling he was trying to make up for what had happened in St Louis.

"No," Percy told him. "I want you to stay up top with the flying shoes. You're the Red Baron, remember? I'll be counting on you for backup, in case something goes wrong."

Grover puffed up his chest a little. "Sure. But what could go wrong?"

"I don't know. Just a feeling. Annabeth, come with me –"

"Are you kidding?" I looked at him like he was crazy. I felt my cheeks burn.

"What's the problem now?" Percy demanded.

"Me, go with you to the... the Thrill Ride of Love? How embarrassing is that? What if somebody saw me?"

"Who's going to see you?" Percy's face was burning now, too. Leave it to a boy to make everything complicated.

"Fine," He told me. "I'll do it myself."

But when Percy started down the side of the pool, I followed him, muttering about how boys always messed things up. We reached the boat. The shield was propped on one seat, and next to it was a lady's silk scarf. I tried to imagine Ares and Aphrodite here, a couple of gods meeting in a junked-out amusement-park ride. Why? Then I noticed something I hadn't seen from up top: mirrors all the way around the rim of the pool, facing this spot. We could see ourselves no matter which direction we looked. That must be it. While Ares and Aphrodite were smooching with each other they could look at their favorite people: themselves.

Percy picked up the scarf. It shimmered pink. Percy smiled, a little dreamy, and was about to rub the scarf against his cheek when I ripped it out of his hand and stuffed it in my pocket.

"Oh, no you don't. Stay away from that love magic."

"What?"

"Just get the shield, Seaweed Brain, and let's get out of here."

There was an engraving on the side of the boat and I leaned in to read it.

Eta.

"Wait," I said.

"Too late." He already had the shield in his hand.

"There's another Greek letter on the side of the boat, another Eta. This is a trap."

Noise erupted all around us, of a million gears grinding, as if the whole pool were turning into one giant machine.

Grover yelled, "Guys!"

Up on the rim, the Cupid statues were drawing their bows into firing position. Before I could suggest taking cover, they shot, but not at us. They fired at each other, across the rim of the pool. Silky cables trailed from the arrows, arcing over the pool and anchoring where they landed to form a huge golden asterisk. Then smaller metallic threads started weaving together magically between the main strands, making a net.

"We have to get out," Percy said.

"Duh!" I said and grabbed Percy's arm and we ran, but going up the slope of the pool was not as easy as going down.

"Come on!" Grover shouted. He was trying to hold open a section of the net for us, but wherever he touched it, the golden threads started to wrap around his hands. The Cupids' heads popped open. Out came video cameras. Spotlights rose up all around the pool, blinding us with illumination, and a loudspeaker voice boomed: "Live to Olympus in one minute... Fifty-nine seconds, fifty-eight..."

"Hephaestus!" I screamed. "I'm so stupid! Eta is "H". He made this trap to catch his wife with Ares. Now we're going to be broadcast live to Olympus and look like absolute fools!"

We'd almost made it to the rim when the row of mirrors opened like hatches and thousands of tiny metallic... things poured out. I screamed. It was an army of wind-up creepy-crawlies: bronze-gear bodies, spindly legs, little pincer mouths, all scuttling towards us in a wave of clacking, whirring metal.

"Spiders!" I said. "Sp – sp – aaaah!"

I fell backwards in terror and almost got overwhelmed by the spider robots before Percy pulled me up and dragged me back towards the boat. The things were coming out from all around the rim now, millions of them, flooding towards the centre of the pool, completely surrounding us.

I told myself they probably weren't programmed to kill, just corral us and bite us and make us look stupid. Percy shoved me into the boat. He started kicking away the spiders as they swarmed aboard. Percy yelled something, but I couldn't hear him over my screams.

"Thirty, twenty-nine," called the loudspeaker. The spiders started spitting out strands of metal thread, trying to tie us down. The strands were easy enough to break at first, but there were so many of them, and the spiders just kept coming. Percy kicked one away from my leg and its pincers took a chunk out of his shoe. Grover hovered above the pool in his flying trainers, trying to pull the net loose, but it wouldn't budge.

Think, I told myself. Think. The tunnel of love entrance was under the net. We could use it as an exit, except that it was blocked by a million, disgusting, terrifying, robot spiders.

"Fifteen, fourteen," the loudspeaker called.

"Grover!" Percy yelled. "Get into that booth! Find the "on" switch!"

"But –"

"Do it!"

The spiders were all over the prow of the boat now. I couldn't move or do anything besides scream. Grover was in the controller's booth now, slamming away at the buttons.

"Five, four –"

Grover looked up at us hopelessly, raising his hands.

"Two, one, zero!"

Water exploded out of the pipes. It roared into the pool, sweeping away the spiders. Percy pulled me into the seat next to him and fastened my seatbelt just as the tidal wave slammed into our boat, over the top, whisking the spiders away and dousing us completely, but not capsizing us. The boat turned, lifted in the flood, and spun in circles around the whirlpool.

The water was full of short-circuiting spiders, some of them smashing against the pool's concrete wall with such force they burst.

Spotlights glared down at us. The Cupid-cams were rolling, live to Olympus.

Percy's face was scrunched with concentration and a realization hit me. He was controlling the _water_ , at least I think he was, our boat didn't break into a million pieces.

We spun around one last time, the water level now almost high enough to shred us against the metal net. Then the boat's nose turned towards the tunnel and we rocketed through into the darkness.

Percy and I held tight, both of us screaming as the boat shot curls and hugged corners and took forty-five degree plunges past pictures of Romeo and Juliet and a bunch of other Valentine's Day stuff.

Then we were out of the tunnel, the night air whistling through our hair as the boat barreled straight towards the exit.

If the ride had been in working order, we would've sailed off a ramp between the golden Gates of Love and splashed down safely in the exit pool. But there was a problem. The Gates of Love were chained. Two boats that had been washed out of the tunnel before us were now piled against the barricade – one submerged, the other cracked in half.

"Unfasten your seat belt," Percy yelled to me.

"Are you crazy?"

"Unless you want to get smashed to death." He strapped Ares's shield to his arm.

"We're going to have to jump for it."

Without the spiders around I understood what he was trying to do. I gripped his hand as the gates got closer.

"When I say go," Percy said.

"No! When I say go!" Percy didn't understand physics, he would probably make us smash into the gate, or make us drown, or... I stopped myself. _Don't think about dying,_ I told myself.

"What?"

"Simple physics!" I yelled. "Force times the trajectory angle –"

"Fine!" Percy shouted. "When you say go!"

I hesitated... hesitated... then yelled, "Now!"

_Crack!_

I was right (of course I was). I gave us maximum lift. Unfortunately, that was a little more than we needed. Our boat smashed into the pileup and we were thrown into the air, straight over the gates, over the pool, and down towards solid tarmac. Something grabbed my arm.

I yelled, "Ouch!"

Grover! In midair, he had grabbed me by the arm, and Percy by the shirt, and was trying to pull us out of a crash landing, but Percy and I had all the momentum.

"You're too heavy!" Grover said. "We're going down!"

We spiraled towards the ground, Grover doing his best to slow the fall.

We smashed into a photo-board, Grover's head going straight into the hole where tourists would put their faces, pretending to be Noo-Noo the Friendly Whale.

Percy and I tumbled to the ground, banged up, but alive. Aphrodite's scarf was still in my pocket. Once we caught our breath, Percy and I got Grover out of the photo-board and thanked him for saving our lives.

Percy looked back at the Thrill Ride of Love, and I followed his gaze. The water was subsiding. Our boat had been smashed to pieces against the gates. A hundred meters away, at the entrance pool, the Cupids were still filming. The statues had swiveled so that their cameras were trained straight on us, the spotlights in our faces.

I flashed the Cupid statues a rude hand sign that Chiron would scold me for doing.

"Show's over!" Percy yelled. "Thank you! Goodnight!"

The Cupids turned back to their original positions. The lights shut off. The park went quiet and dark again, except for the gentle trickle of water into the Thrill Ride of Love's exit pool.

I hated being teased. I hated being tricked. And I had plenty of experience handling bullies who liked to do that stuff to me. Percy hefted the shield on his arm and turned to us.

"We need to have a little talk with Ares."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: we love another 4k word chapter. i see you girl...👀 also, i'm planning on writing another fan fiction, would you guys prefer it to be about Harry Potter or Avatar: The Last Airbender?


	12. We Take a Zebra to Vegas

The war god was waiting for us in the diner parking lot.

"Well, well," he said. "You didn't get yourself killed."

"You knew it was a trap," Percy said, and was rewarded with a wicked grin from Ares.

"Bet that crippled blacksmith was surprised when he netted a couple of stupid kids. You looked good on TV."

Percy shoved his shield at him. "You're a jerk."

Grover and I caught our breath. Ares grabbed the shield and spun it in the air like pizza dough. It changed form, melting into a bulletproof vest. He slung it across his back.

"See that truck over there?" He pointed to an eighteen-wheeler parked across the street from the diner. "That's your ride. Take you straight to L.A., with one stop in Vegas."

The eighteen-wheeler had a sign on the back, which I could read only because it was reverse printed white on black, a good combination for dyslexia: KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL: HUMANE ZOO TRANSPORT. WARNING: LIVE WILD ANIMALS.

Percy said, "You're kidding."

Ares snapped his fingers. The back door of the truck unlatched. "Free ride west, punk. Stop complaining. And here's a little something for doing the job."

He slung a blue nylon backpack off his handlebars and tossed it to Percy. I peered over his shoulder. Inside were fresh clothes for all of us, twenty bucks in cash, a pouch full of golden drachmas and a bag of Double Stuffed Oreos.

Percy said, "I don't want your lousy –"

"Thank you, Lord Ares," Grover interrupted, giving Percy his best red-alert warning look.

"Thanks a lot." Percy gritted his teeth and reluctantly slung the backpack over his shoulder.

I looked back at the diner, which had only a couple of customers now. The waitress who'd served us dinner was watching nervously out the window, like she was afraid Ares might hurt us. She dragged the cook out from the kitchen to see. She said something to him. He nodded, held up a little disposable camera and snapped a picture of us.

Great, I thought. We'll make the papers again tomorrow. I imagined the headline: TWELVE-YEAR-OLD OUTLAW BEATS UP DEFENCELESS BIKER.

"You owe me one more thing," Percy told Ares. "You promised me information about my mother."

"You sure you can handle the news?" He kick-started his motorcycle. "She's not dead."

Percy froze. "What do you mean?"

"I mean she was taken away from the Minotaur before she could die. She was turned into a shower of gold, right? That's metamorphosis. Not death. She's being kept."

"Kept. Why?"

"You need to study war, punk. Hostages. You take somebody to control somebody else."

"Nobody's controlling me." He laughed.

"Oh yeah? See you around, kid."

Percy balled up his fists. "You're pretty smug, Lord Ares, for a guy who runs from Cupid statues."

Behind his sunglasses, fire glowed. I felt a hot wind in my hair.

"We'll meet again, Percy Jackson. Next time you're in a fight, watch your back."

He revved his Harley, then roared off down Delancy Street.

I finally spoke, "That was not smart, Percy."

"I don't care."

"You don't want a god as your enemy. Especially not that god."

"Hey, guys," Grover said. "I hate to interrupt, but..."

He pointed towards the diner. At the cash register, the last two customers were paying their bill, two men in identical black coveralls, with a white logo on their backs that matched the one on the KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL truck.

"If we're taking the zoo express," Grover said, "we need to hurry."

I didn't like it, but we had no better option. Besides, I'd seen enough of Denver. We ran across the street and climbed in the back of the big lorry, closing the doors behind us.

* * *

The first thing that hit me was the smell. It was like the world's biggest pan of kitty litter. The trailer was dark inside until Percy uncapped Riptide. The blade cast a faint bronze light over a very sad scene. Sitting in a row of filthy metal cages were three of the most pathetic zoo animals I'd ever beheld: a zebra, a male albino lion and some weird antelope thing I didn't know the name for.

Someone had thrown the lion a sack of turnips, which he obviously didn't want to eat. The zebra and the antelope had each got a polystyrene tray of hamburger meat. The zebra's mane was matted with chewing gum, like somebody had been spitting on it in their spare time. The antelope had a stupid silver birthday balloon tied to one of his horns that read OVER THE HILL!

Apparently, nobody had wanted to get close enough to the lion to mess with him, but the poor thing was pacing around on soiled blankets, in a space way too small for him, panting from the stuffy heat of the trailer. He had flies buzzing around his pink eyes and his ribs showed through his white fur.

"This is kindness?" Grover yelled. "Humane zoo transport?"

He probably would've gone right back outside to beat up the truckers with his reed pipes, and I would've helped him, but just then the truck's engine roared to life, the trailer started shaking, and we were forced to sit down or fall down.

We huddled in the corner on some mildewed feed sacks, trying to ignore the smell and the heat and the flies. Grover talked to the animals in a series of goat bleats, but they just stared at him sadly. I was in favor of breaking the cages and freeing them on the spot, but Percy pointed out it wouldn't do much good until the truck stopped moving.

I found a water jug and refilled their bowls, then Percy used Riptide to drag the mismatched food out of their cages. He gave the meat to the lion and the turnips to the zebra and the antelope. Grover calmed the antelope down, while I used my knife to cut the balloon off his horn. I wanted to cut the gum out of the zebra's mane, too, but we decided that would be too risky with the truck bumping around. We told Grover to promise the animals we'd help them more in the morning, then we settled in for the night.

Grover curled up on a turnip sack; I opened our bag of Double Stuffed Oreos and nibbled on one half-heartedly. I tried to cheer myself up by concentrating on the fact that we were halfway to Los Angeles. Halfway to our destination. It was only June fourteenth. The solstice wasn't until the twenty first. We could make it in plenty of time.

On the other hand, I had no idea what to expect next. The gods kept toying with us. At least Hephaestus had the decency to be honest about it – he'd put up cameras and advertised us as entertainment. But even when the cameras weren't rolling, I had a feeling our quest was being watched.

"Hey," I said, "I'm sorry for freaking out back at the water park, Percy."

"That's okay."

"It's just..." I shuddered. "Spiders."

"Because of the Arachne story," Percy guessed. "She got turned into a spider for challenging your mom to a weaving contest, right?"

I nodded. "Arachne's children have been taking revenge on the children of Athena ever since. If there's a spider within a mile of me, it'll find me. I hate the creepy little things. Anyway, I owe you."

"We're a team, remember?" Percy said. "Besides, Grover did the fancy flying."

I thought he was asleep, but he mumbled from the corner, "I was pretty amazing, wasn't I?" Percy and I laughed. I pulled apart an Oreo, handed him half.

"In the Iris message... did Luke really say nothing?"

He munched his cookie and thought. The conversation via rainbow had bothered me all evening. There was no way he wouldn't say anything important.

"Luke said you and he go way back. He also said Grover wouldn't fail this time. Nobody would turn into a pine tree." In the dim bronze light of the sword blade, it was hard to read their expressions.

Grover let out a mournful bray.

"I should've told you the truth from the beginning." His voice trembled. "I thought if you knew what a failure I was, you wouldn't want me along."

"You were the satyr who tried to rescue Thalia, the daughter of Zeus."

He nodded glumly.

"And the other two half-bloods Thalia befriended, the ones who got safely to camp..." Percy looked at me. "That was you and Luke, wasn't it?"

I put down my uneaten Oreo.

"Like you said, Percy, a seven-year-old half-blood wouldn't have made it very far alone. Athena guided me towards help. Thalia was twelve. Luke was fourteen. They'd both run away from home, like me. They were happy to take me with them. They were... amazing monster-fighters, even without training. We travelled north from Virginia without any real plans, fending off monsters for about two weeks before Grover found us."

"I was supposed to escort Thalia to camp," he said, sniffling. "Only Thalia. I had strict orders from Chiron: don't do anything that would slow down the rescue. We knew Hades was after her, see, but I couldn't just leave Luke and Annabeth by themselves. I thought... I thought I could lead all three of them to safety. It was my fault the Kindly Ones caught up with us. I froze. I got scared on the way back to camp and took some wrong turns. If I'd just been a little quicker..."

"Stop it," I said fiercely. "No one blames you. Thalia didn't blame you either."

"She sacrificed herself to save us," he said miserably. "Her death was my fault. The Council of Cloven Elders said so."

"Because you wouldn't leave two other half-bloods behind?" Percy said. "That's not fair."

"Percy's right," I said. "I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for you, Grover. Neither would Luke. We don't care what the council says."

Grover kept sniffling in the dark.

"It's just my luck. I'm the lamest satyr ever, and I find the two most powerful half-bloods of the century, Thalia and Percy."

"You're not lame," I insisted. "You've got more courage than any satyr I've ever met. Name one other who would dare go to the Underworld. I bet Percy is really glad you're here right now."

I kicked Percy in the shin.

"Yeah," he said, "It's not luck that you found Thalia and me, Grover. You've got the biggest heart of any satyr ever. You're a natural searcher. That's why you'll be the one who finds Pan."

I heard a deep, satisfied sigh. I waited for Grover to say something, but his breathing only got heavier. When the sound turned to snoring, I realized he'd fallen asleep.

"How does he do that?" Percy marveled.

"I don't know," I said. "But that was really a nice thing you told him."

"I meant it."

We rode in silence for a few miles, bumping around on the feed sacks. The zebra munched a turnip. The lion licked the last of the hamburger meat off his lips and looked at me hopefully.

I started thinking about our quest. Something wasn't right...

"That pine-tree bead," Percy said, garring me out of my thoughts. "Is that from your first year?" I looked. I hadn't realized what I was doing, fidling with Thalia's bead.

"Yeah," I said. "Every August, the counsellors pick the most important event of the summer, and they paint it on that year's beads. I've got Thalia's pine tree, a Greek trireme on fire, a centaur in a prom dress – now that was a weird summer..."

"And the college ring is your father's?"

"That's none of your –" I stopped myself. As long as I was stuck in this truck with Percy, I might as well try to get along with him. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

"You don't have to tell me."

"No... it's okay." I took a shaky breath. I didn't open up to anybody.

"My dad sent it to me folded up in a letter, two summers ago. The ring was, like, his main keepsake from Athena. He wouldn't have got through his doctoral programme at Harvard without her... That's a long story. Anyway, he said he wanted me to have it. He apologized for being a jerk, said he loved me and missed me. He wanted me to come home and live with him."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"Yeah, well... the problem was, I believed him. I tried to go home for that school year, but my stepmom was the same as ever. She didn't want her kids put in danger by living with a freak. Monsters attacked. We argued. Monsters attacked. We argued. I didn't even make it through winter break. I called Chiron and came right back to Camp Half-Blood."

"You think you'll ever try living with your dad again?"

I wouldn't meet his eyes. "Please. I'm not into self-inflicted pain."

"You shouldn't give up," he told me. "You should write him a letter or something."

"Thanks for the advice," I said coldly, "but my father's made his choice about who he wants to live with."

We passed another few miles of silence.

"So if the gods fight," Percy said, "will things line up the way they did with the Trojan War? Will it be Athena versus Poseidon?"

I put my head against the backpack Ares had given us, and closed my eyes.

"I don't know what my mom will do. I just know I'll fight next to you."

"Why?"

"Because you're my friend, Seaweed Brain." _My only friend._ "Any more stupid questions?"

* * *

When I woke up, Grover was already shaking Percy's shoulder.

"The truck's stopped," he explained. "I think they're coming to check on the animals."

"Hide!" I hissed. Luckily, I had it easy. I just put on my magic cap and disappeared. Grover and Percy had to dive behind feed sacks and hope they looked like turnips. The trailer doors creaked open. Sunlight and heat poured in.

"Man!" one of the truckers said, waving his hand in front of his ugly nose. "I wish I hauled appliances."

He climbed inside and poured some water from a jug into the animals' dishes.

"You hot, big boy?" he asked the lion, then splashed the rest of the bucket right in the lion's face. The lion roared in indignation.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the man said.

Next to Percy, under the turnip sacks, Grover tensed. For a peace-loving herbivore, he looked downright murderous. The trucker threw the antelope a squashed-looking Happy Meal bag.

He smirked at the zebra. "How ya doin', Stripes? Least we'll be getting rid of you this stop. You like magic shows? You're gonna love this one. They're gonna saw you in half!"

The zebra, wild-eyed with fear, looked straight at Percy.

Then Percy's eyes grew wide, and he just stared back at the zebra.

I started knocking on the inside of the trailer.

The trucker inside with us yelled, "What do you want, Eddie?"

A voice outside – it must've been Eddie's – shouted back, "Maurice? What'd ya say?"

"What are you banging for?"

I kept knocking.

 _Knock, knock, knock_.

Outside, Eddie yelled, "What banging?"

Our guy Maurice rolled his eyes and went back outside, cursing at Eddie for being an idiot. A second later, I took off my hat, sitting next to Percy.

I said, "This transport business can't be legal."

"No kidding," Grover said. He paused, as if listening.

"The lion says these guys are animal smugglers! We've got to free them!" Grover said. He and I both looked at Percy, who thought for a moment and then grabbed Riptide and slashed the lock off the zebra's cage.

The zebra burst out. It turned to Percy and bowed.

Grover held up his hands and said something to the zebra in goat talk, like a blessing. Just as Maurice was poking his head back inside to check out the noise, the zebra leaped over him and into the street. There was yelling and screaming and cars honking. We rushed to the doors of the trailer in time to see the zebra galloping down a wide boulevard lined with hotels and casinos and neon signs. We'd just released a zebra in Las Vegas.

Maurice and Eddie ran after it, with a few policemen running after them, shouting, "Hey! You need a permit for that!"

"Now would be a good time to leave," I said.

"The other animals first," Grover said.

Percy cut the locks with his sword. Grover raised his hands and spoke the same goat-blessing he'd used for the zebra.

"Good luck," Percy told the animals. The antelope and the lion burst out of their cages and went off together into the streets.

Some tourists screamed. Most just backed off and took pictures, probably thinking it was some kind of stunt by one of the casinos.

"Will the animals be okay?" Percy asked Grover. "I mean, the desert and all –"

"Don't worry," he said. "I placed a satyr's sanctuary on them."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning they'll reach the wild safely," he said. "They'll find water, food, shade, whatever they need until they find a safe place to live."

"Why can't you place a blessing like that on us?" Percy asked.

"It only works on wild animals."

"So it would only affect Percy," I reasoned.

"Hey!" Percy protested.

"Kidding," I said. "Come on. Let's get out of this filthy truck."

We stumbled out into the desert afternoon. It was forty degrees, easy, and we must've looked like deep-fried vagrants, but everybody was too interested in the wild animals to pay us much attention.

We passed the Monte Carlo and the MGM. We passed pyramids, a pirate ship and the Statue of Liberty, which was a pretty small replica, but still made me homesick.

I wasn't sure what we were looking for. Maybe just a place to get out of the heat for a few minutes, find a sandwich and a glass of lemonade, make a new plan for getting west.

We must have taken a wrong turn, because we found ourselves at a dead end, standing in front of the Lotus Hotel and Casino. The entrance was a huge neon flower, the petals lighting up and blinking. No one was going in or out, but the glittering chrome doors were open, spilling out air conditioning that smelled like flowers – lotus blossom, maybe. I'd never smelled one, so I wasn't sure.

The doorman smiled at us. "Hey, kids. You look tired. You want to come in and sit down?" I'd learned to be suspicious, the last week or so. I figured anybody might be a monster or a god. You just couldn't tell. But this guy was normal. One look at him, and I could see. Besides, I was so relieved to hear somebody who sounded sympathetic that I nodded and said we'd love to come in. Inside, we took one look around, and Grover said, "Whoa."

The whole lobby was a giant game room. And I'm not talking about cheesy old Pac-Man games or slot machines. There was an indoor water slide snaking around the glass elevator, which went straight up at least forty floors. There was a climbing wall on the side of one building, and an indoor bungee-jumping bridge. There were virtual-reality suits with working laser guns. And hundreds of video games, each one the size of a widescreen TV. Basically, you name it, this place had it. There were a few other kids playing, but not that many. No waiting for any of the games. There were waitresses and snack bars all around, serving every kind of food you can imagine.

"Hey!" a bellhop said. At least I guessed he was a bellhop. He wore a white-and-yellow Hawaiian shirt with lotus designs, shorts and flip-flops.

"Welcome to the Lotus Casino. Here's your room key."

Percy stammered, "Um, but..."

"No, no," he said, laughing. "The bill's taken care of. No extra charges, no tips. Just go on up to the top floor, room 4001. If you need anything, like extra bubbles for the hot tub, or skeet targets for the shooting range, or whatever, just call the front desk. Here are your LotusCash cards. They work in the restaurants and on all the games and rides."

He handed us each a green plastic credit card. I knew there must be some mistake. Obviously he thought we were some millionaire's kids.

But we took the cards and Percy said, "How much is on here?"

His eyebrows knit together.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, when does it run out of cash?"

He laughed. "Oh, you're making a joke. Hey, that's cool. Enjoy your stay."

We took the elevator upstairs and checked out our room. It was a suite with three separate bedrooms and a bar stocked with candy, sodas and crisps. A hotline to room service. Fluffy towels and waterbeds with feather pillows. A big-screen television with satellite and high-speed Internet. The balcony had its own hot tub and, sure enough, there was a skeet-shooting machine and a shotgun, so you could launch clay pigeons right out over the Las Vegas skyline and plug them with your gun. I didn't see how that could be legal, but I thought it was pretty cool. The view over the Strip and the desert was amazing, though I doubted we'd ever have time to look at the view with a room like this.

"Oh, goodness," I said. "This place is..."

"Sweet," Grover said. "Absolutely sweet." There were clothes in the closet, and they fitted me. I frowned, thinking that this was a little strange. Percy threw Ares's backpack in the trash can. I guess we wouldn't need that any more. When we left, we could just charge a new one at the hotel store.

I took a shower, which felt awesome after a week of grimy travel. I changed clothes and turned on the tv, feeling better than I had in a long time.

In the back of my mind, some small problem kept nagging me. Something was wrong... I needed to talk to my friends. But I was sure it could wait.

Percy came out of the bedroom and he had also showered and changed clothes, along with Grover who was eating crisps to his heart's content, while I cranked up the National Geographic Channel.

"All those stations," Percy told me, "and you turn on National Geographic. Are you insane?"

"It's interesting."

"I feel good," Grover said. "I love this place."

Without him even realizing it, the wings sprouted out of his shoes and lifted him a foot off the ground, then back down again.

"So what now?" I asked. "Sleep?" Grover and Percy looked at each other and grinned. They both held up their green plastic LotusCash cards.

"Play time," Percy said.

I couldn't remember the last time I had so much fun. We didn't have many games at camp, usually ones that involve maiming and maybe death. A five-star Vegas hotel? Forget it. I saw Grover a few times, going from game to game. He really liked the reverse hunter thing – where the deer go out and shoot the rednecks. I was playing trivia games and other brainiac stuff. They had this huge 3-D sim game where you build your own city, and you could actually see the holographic buildings rise on the display board. Percy didn't think much of it, but I loved it.

Percy walked up next to me. "Come on," he told me. "We've got to get out of here."

I didn't respond. He shook me.

"Annabeth?"

I looked up, annoyed. "What?"

"We need to leave."

"Leave? What are you talking about? I've just got the towers –"

"This place is a trap." I went back to my building but Percy shook me again.

"What?"

"Listen. The Underworld. Our quest!"

"Oh, come on, Percy. Just a few more minutes."

"Annabeth, there are people here from 1977. Kids who have never aged. You check in, and you stay forever."

"So?" I asked, I didn't see the problem.

"Can you imagine a better place?" He grabbed my wrist and yanked me away from the game.

"Hey!" I screamed and hit him. He made me look directly in my eyes.

"Spiders. Large, hairy spiders."

Then, as if I was pulled out of a trance, I looked at Percy, as if right now was the first time I had seen him.

I said, "Oh my gods. How long have we –"

"I don't know, but we've got to find Grover."

We went searching, and found him still playing Virtual Deer Hunter.

"Grover!" We both shouted.

He said, "Die, human! Die, silly polluting nasty person!"

"Grover!"

He turned the plastic gun on me and started clicking, as if I were just another image from the screen. I looked at Percy, and together we took Grover by the arms and dragged him away.

His flying shoes sprang to life and started tugging his legs in the other direction as he shouted, "No! I just got to a new level! No!"

The Lotus bellhop hurried up to us. "Well, now, are you ready for your platinum cards?"

"We're leaving," Percy told him.

"Such a shame," he said, and I got the feeling that he really meant it, that we'd be breaking his heart if we went. "We just added an entire new floor full of games for platinum-card members."

He held out the cards, and I wanted one. I knew that if I took one, I'd never leave. I'd stay here, happy forever, playing games forever, and soon I'd forget Chiron, and the quest, and maybe even my own name. I'd be creating my own virtual city.

Grover reached for the card, but I yanked back his arm and said, "No, thanks."

We walked towards the door, and as we did, the smell of the food and the sounds of the games seemed to get more and more inviting. I thought about our room upstairs. We could just stay the night, sleep in a real bed for once... Then we burst through the doors of the Lotus Casino and ran down the sidewalk.

It felt like afternoon, about the same time of day we'd gone into the casino, but something was wrong. The weather had completely changed. It was stormy, with heat lightning flashing out in the desert. Ares's backpack was slung over Percy's shoulder, which was odd, because I was sure he had thrown it in the trash can in room 4001, but at the moment I had other problems to worry about.

Percy ran to the nearest newspaper stand, with Grover and I right on his heels.

Thank the gods, it was the same year it had been when we went in. Then I noticed the date: June twentieth.

We had been in the Lotus Casino for five days.

We had only one day left until the summer solstice. One day to complete our quest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: WHY ARE THERE SO MANY 4K WORD CHAPTERS OMG. also what a plot twist. I would've never guessed it.


	13. We Shop for Waterbeds

It was my idea.

I loaded us into the back of a Vegas taxi as if we actually had money, and told the driver, "Los Angeles, please."

The cabbie chewed his cigar and sized us up.

"That's three hundred miles. For that, you gotta pay up front."

"You accept casino debit cards?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Some of 'em. Same as credit cards. I gotta swipe 'em through, first."

I handed him my green LotusCash card. He looked at it skeptically.

"Swipe it," I invited.

He did. His meter machine started rattling. The lights flashed. Finally an infinity symbol came up next to the dollar sign. The cigar fell out of the driver's mouth. He looked back at us, his eyes wide.

"Where to in Los Angeles... uh, Your Highness?"

"The Santa Monica pier." I sat up a little straighter. I kinda liked the 'Your Highness' thing. "Get us there fast, and you can keep the change."

Maybe I shouldn't have told him that. The cab's speedometer never dipped below ninety-five the whole way through the Mojave Desert.

On the road, we had plenty of time to talk. Percy told Grover and I about his latest dream, but he said the details got sketchier the more he tried to remember them. The Lotus Casino seemed to have short circuited his memory.

I told   
Percy couldn't recall what the invisible servant's voice had sounded like, though he was sure it was somebody he knew. The servant had called the monster in the pit something other than 'my lord'... some special name or title...

"The Silent One?" I suggested. "The Rich One? Both of those are nicknames for Hades."

"Maybe..." Percy frowned.

"That throne room sounds like Hades's," Grover said. "That's the way it's usually described."

Percy shook his head. "Something's wrong. The throne room wasn't the main part of the dream. And that voice from the pit... I don't know. It just didn't feel like a god's voice."

My eyes widened. What if we had misinterpreted the prophecy? What if we weren't supposed to go to Hades but somebody else?

"What?" Percy asked.

"Oh... nothing. I was just – No, it has to be Hades. Maybe he sent this thief, this invisible person, to get the master bolt, and something went wrong –"

"Like what?"

"I – I don't know," I said. "But if he stole Zeus's symbol of power from Olympus, and the gods were hunting him, I mean, a lot of things could go wrong. So this thief had to hide the bolt, or he lost it somehow. Anyway, he failed to bring it to Hades. That's what the voice said in your dream, right? The guy failed. That would explain what the Furies were searching for when they came after us on the bus. Maybe they thought we had retrieved the bolt."

Percy looked at me with confusion.

"But if I'd already retrieved the bolt," he said, "why would I be traveling to the Underworld?"

"To threaten Hades," Grover suggested. "To bribe or blackmail him into getting your mom back."

Percy whistled. "You have evil thoughts for a goat."

"Why, thank you."

"But the thing in the pit said it was waiting for two items," Percy said. "If the master bolt is one, what's the other?"

Grover shook his head, clearly mystified. I looked at Percy, knowing his next question, and was silently willing him not to ask it.

"You have an idea what might be in that pit, don't you?" He asked me. "I mean, if it isn't Hades?"

I had a hunch, but I pushed my thought aside.

"Percy... let's not talk about it. Because if it isn't Hades... No. It has to be Hades."

Wasteland rolled by. We passed a sign that said: CALIFORNIA STATE LINE, 12 MILES.

I got the feeling I was missing one simple, critical piece of information. It was like when I stared at a common word I should know, but I couldn't make sense of it because one or two letters were floating around. The more I thought about the quest, the more I was sure that confronting Hades wasn't the real answer. There was something else going on, something even more dangerous.

The problem was: we were hurtling towards the Underworld at ninety-five miles an hour, betting that Hades had the master bolt. If we got there and found out we were wrong, we wouldn't have time to correct ourselves. The solstice deadline would pass and war would begin.

"The answer is in the Underworld," I assured Percy. "You saw spirits of the dead, Percy. There's only one place that could be. We're doing the right thing."

I tried to boost Percy and Grover's morale by suggesting clever strategies for getting into the Land of the Dead, but their hearts wasn't in it. There were just too many unknown factors.

The cab sped west. Every gust of wind through Death Valley sounded like a spirit of the dead.

At sunset, the taxi dropped us at the beach in Santa Monica. It looked exactly the way L.A. beaches do in the movies, only it smelled worse. There were carnival rides lining the pier, palm trees lining the sidewalks, homeless guys sleeping in the sand dunes and surfer dudes waiting for the perfect wave. Grover, Percy and I walked down to the edge of the surf.

"What now?" I asked. The Pacific was turning gold in the setting sun. I thought about how long it had been since I'd stood on the beach at Camp Half-Blood, on the opposite side of the country, looking out at a different sea.

Percy stepped into the surf.

"Percy?" I said. "What are you doing?"

He kept walking, up to his waist, then his chest.

I called after him, "You know how polluted that water is? There're all kinds of toxic- and he's under."

When Percy finally decided to finish his polluted bath, he told Grover and I what had happened with the Nereid, and showed them the pearls.

I grimaced. "No gift comes without a price."

"They were free."

"No." I shook my head. "There is no such thing as a free lunch. That's an ancient Greek saying that translated pretty well into American. There will be a price. You wait."

On that happy thought, we turned our backs on the sea. With some spare change from Ares's backpack, we took the bus into West Hollywood. I showed the driver the Underworld address slip Percy taken from Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium, but he'd never heard of DOA Recording Studios.

"You remind me of somebody I saw on TV," he told Percy. "You a child actor or something?"

"Uh... I'm a stunt double... for a lot of child actors."

"Oh! That explains it."

We thanked him and got off quickly at the next stop. We wandered for miles on foot, looking for DOA. Nobody seemed to know where it was. It didn't appear in the phone book. Twice, we ducked into alleys to avoid cop cars.

Percy froze in front of an appliance store window because a television was playing an interview with somebody who looked like he'd be besties with Mr. D.

I assumed this was Percy's stepdad and I felt a pang of pity for him. The man was talking to Barbara Walters – as if he were some kind of huge celebrity. She was interviewing him in an apartment, in the middle of a poker game, and there was a young blonde lady sitting next to him, patting his hand.

A fake tear glistened on his cheek. He was saying, "Honest, Ms. Walters, if it wasn't for Sugar here, my grief counsellor. I'd be a wreck. My stepson took everything I cared about. My wife... my Camaro... I – I'm sorry. I have trouble talking about it."

"There you have it, America." Barbara Walters turned to the camera. "A man torn apart. An adolescent boy with serious issues. Let me show you, again, the last known photo of this troubled young fugitive, taken a week ago in Denver." The screen cut to a grainy shot of me, Percy and Grover standing outside the Colorado diner, talking to Ares.

"Who are the other children in this photo?" Barbara Walters asked dramatically. "Who is the man with them? Is Percy Jackson a delinquent, a terrorist, or perhaps the brainwashed victim of a frightening new cult? When we come back, we chat with a leading child psychologist. Stay tuned, America."

"C'mon," Grover told Percy.

He hauled him away before he could punch a hole in the appliance-store window. It got dark, and hungry-looking characters started coming out on the streets to play. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm a demigod. I don't scare easy. But L.A. had a totally different feel from what I was used to. Back home, everything was close. It didn't matter where you were at camp, as long as you weren't dumb, you were fine.

L.A. wasn't like that. It was spread out, chaotic, hard to move around. It reminded me of Ares. It wasn't enough for L.A. to be big; it had to prove it was big by being loud and strange and difficult to navigate, too. I didn't know how we were ever going to find the entrance to the Underworld by tomorrow, the summer solstice.

We walked past gangbangers, bums and street hawkers, who looked at us like they were trying to figure if we were worth the trouble of mugging. As we hurried passed the entrance of an alley, a voice from the darkness said, "Hey, you." Like an idiot, Percy stopped. Before I knew it, we were surrounded. A gang of kids had circled us. Six of them in all – white kids with expensive clothes and mean faces. Like the Ares kids at camp.

Instinctively, Percy uncapped Riptide. When the sword appeared out of nowhere, the kids backed off, but their leader was either really stupid or really brave, because he kept coming at him with a switchblade.

Percy made the mistake of swinging. The kid yelped. But he must've been one hundred percent mortal, because the blade passed harmlessly right through his chest. He looked down.

"What the..." I figured I had about three seconds before his shock turned to anger.

"Run!" Percy screamed at Grover and I. We pushed two kids out of the way and raced down the street, not knowing where we were going. We turned a sharp corner.

"There!" I shouted. Only one store on the block looked open, its windows glaring with neon. The sign above the door said something like: CRSTUY'S WATREBDE ALPACE.

"Crusty's Waterbed Palace?" Grover translated. It didn't sound like a place I'd ever go except in an emergency, but this definitely qualified. We burst through the doors, ran behind a waterbed, and ducked. A split second later, the gang kids ran past outside.

"I think we lost them," Grover panted.

A voice behind us boomed, "Lost who?"

We all jumped. Standing behind us was a guy who looked like a raptor in a leisure suit. He was at least two meters tall, with absolutely no hair. He had grey leathery skin, thick-lidded eyes, and a cold reptilian smile. He moved towards us slowly, but I got the feeling he could move fast if he needed to. His suit might've come from the Lotus Casino. It belonged back in the seventies, big time. The shirt was silk paisley, unbuttoned halfway down his hairless chest. The lapels on his velvet jacket were as wide as landing strips. The silver chains around his neck – I couldn't even count them.

"I'm Crusty," he said, with a tartar-yellow smile.

Yes, yes you are, I thought.

"Sorry to barge in," Percy told him. "We were just, um, browsing."

"You mean hiding from those no-good kids," he grumbled. "They hang around every night. I get a lot of people in here, thanks to them. Say, you want to look at a waterbed?"

I was about to say "No, thanks," when he put a huge paw on Percy's shoulder and steered him deeper into the showroom, leaving Grover and I no choice but to follow.

There was every kind of waterbed you could imagine: different kinds of wood, different patterns of sheets; queen-size, king-size, emperor-of-the-universe-size.

"This is my most popular model." Crusty spread his hands proudly over a bed covered with black satin sheets, with built-in Lava Lamps on the headboard. The mattress vibrated, so it looked like oil-flavored jelly.

"Million-hand massage," Crusty told us. "Go on, try it out. Shoot, take a nap. I don't care. No business today, anyway."

"Um," Percy said, "I don't think..."

"Million-hand massage!" Grover cried, and dived in. "Oh, you guys! This is cool."

"Hmm," Crusty said, stroking his leathery chin. "Almost, almost."

"Almost what?" Percy asked.

He looked at me. "Do me a favor and try this one over here, honey. Might fit."

I said, "But what –" He patted me reassuringly on the shoulder and led me over to the Safari Deluxe model with teakwood lions carved into the frame and a leopard-patterned bedspread.

When I didn't lie down, Crusty pushed me.

"Hey!" I protested.

Crusty snapped his fingers. "Ergo!" Ropes sprang from the sides of the bed, lashing around me, holding me to the mattress. Grover tried to get up, but ropes sprang from his black-satin bed, too, and lashed him down.

"Not cool!" he yelled, his voice vibrating from the million-hand massage. "Not cool at all!"

The giant looked at me, then turned towards Percy and grinned. "Almost, darn it."

Percy tried to step away, but Crusty's hand shot out and clamped around the back of Percy'a neck.

"Whoa, kid. Don't worry. We'll find you one in a sec."

"Let my friends go."

"Oh, sure I will. But I got to make them fit, first."

"What do you mean?"

"All the beds are exactly six feet, see? Your friends are too short. Got to make them fit."

Grover and I kept struggling.

"Can't stand imperfect measurements," Crusty muttered. "Ergo!" A new set of ropes leaped out from the top and bottom of the beds, wrapping around Grover and my ankles, then around our armpits. The ropes started tightening, pulling us from both ends.

"Don't worry," Crusty told Percy. "These are stretching jobs. Maybe eight extra centimetres on their spines. They might even live. Now why don't we find a bed you like, huh?"

"Percy!" Grover yelled.

I gritted my teeth. My mind was racing. From what I remember, there isn't a myth on a giant named Crusty.

"Your real name's not Crusty, is it?" Percy asked.

"Legally, it's Procrustes," he admitted.

"The Stretcher," Percy translated.

I remembered the story: the giant who'd tried to kill Theseus with over hospitality on his way to Athens.

"Yeah," the salesman said. "But who can pronounce "Procrustes"? Bad for business. Now "Crusty", anybody can say that."

"You're right. It's got a good ring to it."

His eyes lit up. "You think so?"

"Oh, absolutely," Percy said. "And the workmanship on these beds? Fabulous!"

Procrustes grinned hugely, but his fingers didn't loosen on Percy's neck.

"I tell my customers that. Every time. Nobody bothers to look at the workmanship. How many built-in Lava Lamp headboards have you seen?"

"Not too many."

"That's right!"

"Percy!" I yelled. He can't seriously be making small talk while Grover and I were being stretched to death. "What are you doing?"

"Don't mind her," Percy told Procrustes. "She's impossible."

I had a lot of things I wanted to yell at both of them, but I willed myself to focus on staying conscious.

The giant laughed. "All my customers are. Never six feet exactly. So inconsiderate. And then they complain about the fitting."

"What do you do if they're longer than six feet?"

"Oh, that happens all the time. It's a simple fix."

He let go of Percy's neck, but before he could react, Procrustes reached behind a nearby sales desk and brought out a huge double-bladed brass axe.

He said, "I just center the subject as best I can and lop off whatever hangs over on either end."

"Ah," Percy said. "Sensible."

"I'm so glad to come across an intelligent customer!"

The ropes were really stretching me out now. Spots danced across my vision. This cannot be happening, I thought. I'm going to die being _stretched_ to death.

"So, Crusty..." Percy said and glanced at the sales tag on the valentine-shaped Honeymoon Special.

"Does this one really have dynamic stabilizers to stop wave motion?"

"Absolutely. Try it out."

"Yeah, maybe I will. But would it work even for a big guy like you? No waves at all?"

"Guaranteed."

"No way."

"Way."

"Show me."

He sat down eagerly on the bed, patted the mattress.

"No waves. See?"

Percy snapped his fingers. "Ergo."

Ropes lashed around Crusty and flattened him against the mattress.

"Hey!" he yelled.

"Center him just right," Percy said. The ropes readjusted themselves at his command. Crusty's whole head stuck out the top. His feet stuck out the bottom.

"No!" he said. "Wait! This is just a demo."

Percy uncapped Riptide. "A few simple adjustments..."

"You drive a hard bargain," Crusty told Percy. "I'll give you thirty percent off on selected floor models!"

"I think I'll start with the top." Percy raised his sword.

"No money down! No interest for six months!"

I turned my head to the ceiling.

Crusty stopped making offers.

Percy cut the ropes on our beds beds. Grover and I got to our feet, groaning and wincing and cursing him a lot.

"I hate you."

"You look taller," Percy said.

"Very funny," I said. "Be faster next time."

"Come on," he said.

"Give us a minute," Grover complained. "We were almost stretched to death!"

Then you're ready for the Underworld," Percy said, holding up a bright orange flier he took from Crusty's bulletin board. "It's only a block from here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: okay... 3k words this time. we're kinda good :)


	14. I Do Obedience School

We stood in the shadows of Valencia Boulevard, looking up at gold letters etched in black marble: DOA RECORDING STUDIOS.

Underneath, stencilled on the glass doors: NO SOLICITORS. NO LOITERING. NO LIVING. It was almost midnight, but the lobby was brightly lit and full of people. Behind the security desk sat a tough-looking guard with sunglasses and an earpiece.

Percy turned to Grover and I. "Okay. You remember the plan."

"The plan," Grover gulped. "Yeah. I love the plan."

I said, "What happens if the plan doesn't work?"

"Don't think negative."

"Right," I said. "We're entering the Land of the Dead, and I shouldn't think negative."

Percy took the pearls out of his pocket, the three milky spheres the Nereid had given him in Santa Monica. They didn't seem like much of a backup in case something went wrong.

I put my hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Percy. You're right, we'll make it. It'll be fine."

I gave Grover a nudge.

"Oh, right!" he chimed in. "We got this far. We'll find the master bolt and save your mom. No problem." Percy looked at us. I don't really know why we were comforting him. Only a few minutes before, he'd almost got us stretched to death on deluxe waterbeds, and now we were trying to make him feel better.

Percy slipped the pearls back in his pocket. "Let's whoop some Underworld butt."

We walked inside the DOA lobby. Muzak played softly on hidden speakers. The carpet and walls were steel grey. Pencil cactuses grew in the corners like skeleton hands. The furniture was black leather, and every seat was taken. There were people sitting on couches, people standing up, people staring out the windows or waiting for the elevator. Nobody moved, or talked, or did much of anything. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see them all just fine, but if I focused on any one of them in particular, they started looking... transparent. I could see right through their bodies.

The security guard's desk was a raised podium, so we had to look up at him. He was tall and elegant, with chocolate-colored skin and bleached-blond hair shaved military style. He wore tortoiseshell shades and a silk Italian suit that matched his hair. A black rose was pinned to his lapel under a silver name tag. I read the name tag, then looked at him in bewilderment.

"Your name is Chiron?" Percy asked and I groaned inwardly. He leaned across the desk. I couldn't see anything in his glasses except my own reflection, but his smile was sweet and cold, like a pythons, right before it eats you.

"What a precious young lad." He had a strange accent – British, maybe, but also as if he had learned English as a second language.

"Tell me, mate, do I look like a centaur?"

"N-no."

"Sir," he added smoothly.

"Sir," Percy said.

He pinched the name tag and ran his finger under the letters.

"Can you read this, mate? It says C- H-A-R-O-N. Say it with me: CARE-ON."

"Charon."

"Amazing! Now: Mr Charon."

"Mr Charon," Percy said.

"Well done." He sat back. "I hate being confused with that old horse-man. And now, how may I help you little dead ones?" His question caught in my stomach like a fastball. Percy looked at me for support.

"We want to go the Underworld," I said, sounding a lot more confident than I felt.

Charon's mouth twitched. "Well, that's refreshing."

"It is?" I asked.

"Straightforward and honest. No screaming. No "There must be a mistake, Mr Charon"." He looked us over. "How did you die, then?"

Percy nudged Grover.

"Oh," he said. "Um... drowned... in the bathtub."

"All three of you?" Charon asked.

We nodded.

"Big bathtub." Charon looked mildly impressed. "I don't suppose you have coins for passage. Normally, with adults, you see, I could charge your American Express, or add the ferry price to your last cable bill. But with children... alas, you never die prepared. Suppose you'll have to take a seat for a few centuries."

"Oh, but we have coins." Percy set three golden drachmas on the counter, part of the stash he'd found in Crusty's office desk.

"Well, now..." Charon moistened his lips. "Real drachmas. Real golden drachmas. I haven't seen these in..."

His fingers hovered greedily over the coins. We were so close. Then Charon looked at Percy suspiciously.

"Here now," he said. "You couldn't read my name correctly. Are you dyslexic, lad?"

"No," Percy said. "I'm dead."

Charon leaned forward and took a sniff. "You're not dead. I should've known. You're a godling."

"We have to get to the Underworld," Percy insisted. Charon made a growling sound deep in his throat. Immediately, all the people in the waiting room got up and started pacing, agitated, lighting cigarettes, running hands through their hair, or checking their wristwatches.

"Leave while you can," Charon told us. "I'll just take these and forget I saw you."

He started to go for the coins, but Percy snatched them back.

"No service, no tip."

Charon growled again – a deep, blood-chilling sound. The spirits of the dead started pounding on the elevator doors.

"It's a shame, too," Percy sighed. "We had more to offer."

He held up the entire bag from Crusty's stash and took out a fistful of drachmas and let the coins spill through his fingers. Charon's growl changed into something more like a lion's purr.

"Do you think I can be bought, godling? Eh... just out of curiosity, how much have you got there?"

"A lot," Percy said. "I bet Hades doesn't pay you well enough for such hard work."

"Oh, you don't know half of it. How would you like to babysit these spirits all day? Always "Please don't let me be dead" or "Please let me across for free". I haven't had a pay raise in three thousand years. Do you imagine suits like this come cheap?"

"You deserve better," Percy agreed. "A little appreciation. Respect. Good pay." With each word, he stacked another gold coin on the counter. Charon glanced down at his silk Italian jacket, as if imagining himself in something even better.

"I must say, lad, you're making some sense now. Just a little."

Percy stacked another few coins. "I could mention a pay raise while I'm talking to Hades."

He sighed. "The boat's almost full, anyway. I might as well add you three and be off."

He stood, scooped up our money, and said, "Come along."

We pushed through the crowd of waiting spirits, who started grabbing at our clothes like the wind, their voices whispering things I couldn't make out. Charon shoved them out of the way, grumbling, "Freeloaders."

He escorted us into the elevator, which was already crowded with souls of the dead, each one holding a green boarding pass. Charon grabbed two spirits who were trying to get on with us and pushed them back into the lobby.

"Right. Now, no one get any ideas while I'm gone," he announced to the waiting room. "And if anyone moves the dial off my easy-listening station again, I'll make sure you're here for another thousand years. Understand?"

He shut the doors. He put a key card into a slot in the elevator panel and we started to descend.

"What happens to the spirits waiting in the lobby?" I asked, unable to help myself.

"Nothing," Charon said.

"For how long?"

"Forever, or until I'm feeling generous."

"Oh," I said. "That's... fair."

I imagined waiting in that room when I was older, maybe 15 or so, waiting thousands of years just to probably be sent into the Fields of Asphodel. I couldn't imagine it.

Charon raised an eyebrow. "Whoever said death was fair, young miss? Wait until it's your turn. You'll die soon enough, where you're going."

"We'll get out alive," Percy said.

"Ha."

I got a sudden dizzy feeling. We weren't going down any more, but forward. The air turned misty. Spirits around me started changing shape. Their modern clothes flickered, turning into grey hooded robes. The floor of the elevator began swaying. I blinked hard. When I opened my eyes, Charon's creamy Italian suit had been replaced by a long black robe. His tortoiseshell glasses were gone. Where his eyes should've been were empty sockets – like Ares's eyes, except Charon's were totally dark, full of night and death and despair.

He saw me looking, and said, "Well?"

"Nothing," I managed. I thought he was grinning, but that wasn't it. The flesh of his face was becoming transparent, letting me see straight through to his skull. The floor kept swaying.

Grover said, "I think I'm getting seasick."

When I blinked again, the elevator wasn't an elevator any more. We were standing in a wooden barge. Charon was poling us across a dark, oily river, swirling with bones, dead fish and other, stranger things – plastic dolls, crushed carnations, soggy diplomas with gilt edges.

I recognized the river we were on. "The River Styx," I murmured. "It's so..."

"Polluted," Charon said. "For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything as you come across – hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true. Irresponsible waste management, if you ask me."

I reached over the edge of the boat, and brought my hand close to what looked like a diploma. When I was inches away from it I stopped, and watched it float away.

Mist curled off the filthy water. Above us, almost lost in the gloom, was a ceiling of stalactites. Ahead, the far shore glimmered with greenish light, the color of poison. Panic closed up my throat. What was I doing here? These people around me... they were dead. I grabbed hold of Percy's hand. Under normal circumstances, this would've embarrassed me, but I hoped that he understood how I felt. I wanted reassurance that somebody else was alive on this boat.

I listened to Percy muttering a prayer, though I wasn't quite sure who he was praying to. Down here, only one god mattered, and he was the one we had come to confront.

The shoreline of the Underworld came into view. Craggy rocks and black volcanic sand stretched inland about fifty meters to the base of a high stone wall, which marched off in either direction as far as we could see. A sound came from somewhere nearby in the green gloom, echoing off the stones – the howl of a large animal.

"Old Three-Face is hungry," Charon said. His smile turned skeletal in the greenish light. "Bad luck for you, godlings."

The bottom of our boat slid onto the black sand. The dead began to disembark. A woman holding a little girls hand. An old man and an old woman hobbling along arm in arm. A boy no older than I was, shuffling silently along in his grey robe.

Charon said, "I'd wish you luck, mate, but there isn't any down here. Mind you, don't forget to mention my pay raise."

He counted our golden coins into his pouch, then took up his pole. He warbled something that sounded like a Barry Manilow song as he ferried the empty barge back across the river.

We followed the spirits up a well-worn path. 

I'm not sure what I was expecting – probably something grand that would catch your eye right away. But the entrance to the Underworld looked like a cross between airport security and the Jersey Turnpike.

There were three separate entrances under one huge black archway that said: YOU ARE NOW ENTERING EREBUS. Each entrance had a pass-through metal detector mounted with security cameras.

Beyond this were toll booths manned by black-robed ghouls like Charon. The howling of the hungry animal was really loud now, but I couldn't see where it was coming from. The three-headed dog, Cerberus, who was supposed to guard Hades's door, was nowhere to be seen.

The dead queued up in the three lines, two marked: ATTENDANT ON DUTY, and one marked: EZ DEATH. The EZ DEATH line was moving right along. The other two were crawling.

"What do you figure?" Percy asked me.

"The fast line must go straight to Asphodel," I said. "No contest. They don't want to risk judgment from the court, because it might go against them."

"There's a court for dead people?"

"Yeah. Three judges. They switch around who sits on the bench. King Minos, Thomas Jefferson, Shakespeare – people like that. Sometimes they look at a life and decide that person needs a special reward – the Fields of Elysium. Sometimes they decide on punishment. But most people, well, they just lived. Nothing special, good or bad. So they go to the Fields of Asphodel."

"And do what?"

Grover said, "Imagine standing in a wheat field in Kansas. Forever."  
  
“Harsh," Percy said.

"Not as harsh as that," Grover muttered. "Look."

A couple of black-robed ghouls had pulled aside one spirit and were frisking him at the security desk.

"He's that preacher who made the news, remember?" Grover asked.

"Oh, yeah. What're they doing to him?"

"Special punishment from Hades," Grover guessed. "The really bad people get his personal attention as soon as they arrive. The Fu – the Kindly Ones will set up an eternal torture for him."

The thought of the Furies made me shudder. I realized I was in their home territory now.

"But if he's a preacher," Percy said, "and he believes in a different hell..."

Grover shrugged. "Who says he's seeing this place the way we're seeing it? Humans see what they want to see. They're very stubborn – er, persistent, that way."

We got closer to the gates. The howling was so loud now it shook the ground at my feet, but I still couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Charon said old three face was hungry. What had three faces and lived in the Underworld?

"Oh no." I muttered.

Then, about fifteen meters in front of us, the green mist shimmered. Standing just where the path split into three lanes was an enormous shadowy monster. I hadn't seen it before because it was half transparent, like the dead. Until it moved, it blended with whatever was behind it. Only its eyes and teeth looked solid. And it was staring straight at me.

Percy's jaw hung open. The only thing he said was, "He's a Rottweiler."

I'd always imagined Cerberus as a big black mastiff. But he was obviously a purebred Rottweiler, except of course that he was twice the size of a woolly mammoth, mostly invisible, and had three heads. The dead walked right up to him – no fear at all. The ATTENDANT ON DUTY lines parted on either side of him. The EZ DEATH spirits walked right between his front paws and under his belly, which they could do without even crouching.

"I'm starting to see him better," Percy muttered. "Why is that?"

I think..." I bit my lip. "I'm afraid it's because we're getting closer to being dead."

The dog's middle head craned towards us. It sniffed the air and growled.

"It can smell the living," Percy said.

"But that's okay," Grover said, trembling next to me.

"Because we have a plan."

"Right," I said. I'd never heard my voice sound quite so small. "A plan."

We moved towards the monster. The middle head snarled at us, then barked so loud my eyeballs rattled.

"Can you understand it?" Percy asked Grover.

"Oh yeah," he said. "I can understand it."

"What's it saying?"

"I don't think humans have a four-letter word that translates, exactly."

Percy took the big stick out of his backpack – a bed post he'd broken off Crusty's Safari Deluxe floor model. He held it up and waved it around.

"Hey, Big Fella," he called up. "I bet they don't play with you much."

"GROWWWLLLL!"

"Good boy," Percy said weakly as he waved the stick. The dog's middle head followed the movement. The other two heads trained their eyes on us, completely ignoring the spirits. Percy had Cerberus's undivided attention. I wasn't sure that was a good thing.

"Fetch!" Percy threw the stick into the gloom, a good solid throw. I heard it go ker-sploosh in the River Styx.

Cerberus glared at him, unimpressed. His eyes were baleful and cold.

So much for the plan.

Cerberus was now making a new kind of growl, deeper down in his three throats.

"Um," Grover said. "Percy?"

"Yeah?"

"I just thought you'd want to know."

"Yeah?"

"Cerberus? He's saying we've got ten seconds to pray to the god of our choice. After that... well... he's hungry."

"Wait!" I said and started rifling through my pack. I had a crazy idea and I highly doubted it would work, but it was our only chance.

"Five seconds," Grover said.

"Do we run now?"

I produced a red rubber ball the size of a grapefruit. It was labelled: WATERLAND, DENVER, CO. Before anyone could stop me, I raised the ball and marched straight up to Cerberus.

I thought back to how I used to train my Dobermann and shouted, "See the ball? You want the ball, Cerberus? Sit!"

Cerberus looked as stunned as Percy and Grover were. All three of his heads cocked sideways. Six nostrils dilated.

"Sit!" I called again.

I was sure that any moment I would become the world's largest Milkbone dog biscuit.

But instead, Cerberus licked his three sets of lips, shifted on his haunches, and sat, immediately crushing a dozen spirits who'd been passing underneath him in the EZ DEATH line. The spirits made muffled hisses as they dissipated, like the air let out of tires.

"Good boy!" I said and threw Cerberus the ball. He caught it in his middle mouth. It was barely big enough for him to chew, and the other heads started snapping at the middle, trying to get the new toy.

"Drop it!" I ordered. Cerberus's heads stopped fighting and looked at me.

The ball was wedged between two of his teeth like a tiny piece of gum. He made a loud, scary whimper, then dropped the ball, now slimy and bitten nearly in half, at my feet.

"Good boy." I picked up the ball, ignoring the monster spit all over it.

I turned towards Percy and Grover.

"Go now. EZ DEATH line – it's faster."

Percy said, "But –"

"Now!" I ordered, in the same tone I was using on the dog.

Grover and Percy inched forward warily.

Cerberus started to growl.

"Stay!" I ordered the monster. "If you want the ball, stay!"

Cerberus whimpered, but he stayed where he was.

"What about you?" Percy asked me as they passed.

"I know what I'm doing, Percy," I muttered. "At least, I'm pretty sure..."

Grover and Percy walked between the monster's legs.

Please, I prayed. Don't sit down again.

We made it through.

I said, "Good dog!"

I held up the tattered red ball, and came to a conclusion I didn't like – if I rewarded Cerberus, there'd be nothing left for another trick.

I threw the ball anyway. The monster's left mouth immediately snatched it up, only to be attacked by the middle head while the right head moaned in protest.

While the monster was distracted, I walked briskly under its belly and joined them at the metal detector.

"How did you do that?" Percy asked me, amazed. "Obedience school," I said breathlessly, my eyes stinging. "When I was little, at my dad's house, we had a Dobermann..."

"Never mind that," Grover said, tugging at my shirt. "Come on!"

We were about to bolt through the EZ DEATH line when Cerberus moaned pitifully from all three mouths. I stopped. I turned to face the dog, which had done a one-eighty to look at us. Cerberus panted expectantly, the tiny red ball in pieces in a puddle of drool at its feet.

"Good boy," I said, but my voice sounded melancholy and uncertain.

The monster's heads turned sideways, as if he was worried about me.

"I'll bring you another ball soon," I promised faintly. "Would you like that?"

The monster whimpered. I didn't need to speak dog to know Cerberus was still waiting for the ball.

"Good dog. I'll come visit you soon. I – I promise." I turned to my friends. "Let's go."

Grover and Percy pushed through the metal detector, which immediately screamed and set off flashing red lights. "Unauthorized possessions! Magic detected!"

Cerberus started to bark. We burst through the EZ DEATH gate, which started even more alarms blaring, and raced into the Underworld.

A few minutes later, we were hiding, out of breath, in the rotten trunk of an immense black tree as security ghouls scuttled past, yelling for backup from the Furies.

Grover murmured, "Well, Percy, what have we learned today?"

"That three-headed dogs prefer red rubber balls over sticks?"

"No," Grover told him. "We've learned that your plans really, really bite!"

I wasn't totally sure about that. I thought maybe Percy and I had both had the right idea. Even here in the Underworld, everybody – even monsters – needed a little attention once in a while.

I thought about that as we waited for the ghouls to pass. I wiped a tear from my cheek as I listened to the mournful keening of Cerberus in the distance, longing for his new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!!!
> 
> this chapter makes me happy but really saddddd.


	15. We Find Out the Truth, Sort of

Imagine the largest concert crowd you've ever seen, a football field packed with a million fans. Now imagine a field a million times that big, packed with people, and imagine the electricity has gone out, and there is no noise, no light, no beach ball bouncing around over the crowd. Something tragic has happened backstage. Whispering masses of people are just milling around in the shadows, waiting for a concert that will never start.

If you can picture that, you have a pretty good idea what the Fields of Asphodel looked like. The black grass had been trampled by aeons of dead feet. A warm, moist wind blew like the breath of a swamp. Black trees – Grover told us they were poplars – grew in clumps here and there.

The cavern ceiling was so high above us it might've been a bank of storm clouds, except for the stalactites, which glowed faint grey and looked wickedly pointed. I tried not to imagine they'd fall on us at any moment, but dotted around the fields were several that had fallen and impaled themselves in the black grass. I guess the dead didn't have to worry about little hazards like being speared by stalactites the size of booster rockets.

Percy, Grover and I tried to blend into the crowd, keeping an eye out for security ghouls. I couldn't help looking for familiar faces among the spirits of Asphodel, maybe somebody from camp, but the dead are hard to look at. Their faces shimmer. They all look slightly angry or confused. They will come up to you and speak, but their voices sound like chatter, like bats twittering. Once they realize you can't understand them, they frown and move away.

The dead aren't scary. They're just sad.

We crept along, following the line of new arrivals that snaked from the main gates towards a black-tented pavilion with a banner that read:

JUDGMENTS FOR ELYSIUM AND ETERNAL DAMNATION

Welcome, Newly Deceased!

Out the back of the tent came two much smaller lines. To the left, spirits flanked by security ghouls were marched down a rocky path towards the Fields of Punishment, which glowed and smoked in the distance, a vast, cracked wasteland with rivers of lava and minefields and miles of barbed wire separating the different torture areas. Even from far away, I could see people being chased by hellhounds, burned at the stake, forced to run naked through cactus patches or listen to opera music. I could just make out a tiny hill, with the ant-size figure of Sisyphus struggling to move his boulder to the top. And I saw worse tortures, too – things I don't want to describe.

The line coming from the right side of the judgment pavilion was much better. This one led down towards a small valley surrounded by walls – a gated community, which seemed to be the only happy part of the Underworld. Beyond the security gate were neighborhoods of beautiful houses from every time period in history, Roman villas and mediaeval castles and Victorian mansions. Silver and gold flowers bloomed on the lawns. The grass rippled in rainbow colors. I could hear laughter and smell barbecue cooking.

Elysium.

In the middle of that valley was a glittering blue lake, with three small islands like a vacation resort in the Bahamas. The Isles of the Blest, for people who had chosen to be reborn three times, and three times achieved Elysium. All demigods strived to achieve Elysium.

"That's what it's all about," I said. "That's the place for heroes."

But I thought of how few people there were in Elysium, how tiny it was compared to Asphodel or even Punishment. So few people did good in their lives. It was depressing.

We left the judgment pavilion and moved deeper into Asphodel. It got darker. The colors faded from our clothes. The crowds of chattering spirits began to thin.

After a few miles of walking, we began to hear a familiar screech in the distance. Looming on the horizon was a palace of glittering black obsidian. Above the parapets swirled three dark batlike creatures: the Furies. I got the feeling they were waiting for us.

"I suppose it's too late to turn back," Grover said wistfully.

"We'll be okay." Percy said trying, and failing, to sound confident.

"Maybe we should search some of the other places first," Grover suggested. "Like, Elysium, for instance..."

"Come on, goat boy." I grabbed his arm. Grover yelped. His trainers sprouted wings and his legs shot forward, pulling him away from me. He landed flat on his back in the grass.

"Grover," I chided. "Stop messing around."

"But I didn't –"

He yelped again. His shoes were flapping like crazy now. They levitated off the ground and started dragging him away from us.

"Maia!" he yelled, but the magic word seemed to have no effect. '"Maia, already! 911! Help!"

I got over being stunned and made a grab for Grover's hand, but too late. He was picking up speed, skidding downhill like a bobsled. We ran after him.

I shouted, "Untie the shoes!"

It was a smart idea, but I guess it's not so easy when your shoes are pulling you along feet-first at full speed. Grover tried to sit up, but he couldn't get close to the laces.

We kept after him, trying to keep him in sight as he zipped between the legs of spirits who chattered at him in annoyance. I was sure Grover was going to barrel straight through the gates of Hades's palace, but his shoes veered sharply to the right and dragged him in the opposite direction.

The slope got steeper. Grover picked up speed. Percy and I had to sprint to keep up. The cavern walls narrowed on either side, and I realized we'd entered some kind of side tunnel. No black grass or trees now, just rock underfoot, and the dim light of the stalactites above.

"Grover!" Percy yelled, his voice echoing. "Hold on to something!"

"What?" he yelled back.

He was grabbing at gravel, but there was nothing big enough to slow him down. The tunnel got darker and colder. The hairs on my arms bristled. It smelled evil down here. It made me think of things I shouldn't even know about – blood spilled on an ancient stone altar, the foul breath of a murderer.

Then I saw what was ahead of us, and Percy stopped dead in his tracks.

The tunnel widened into a huge dark cavern, and in the middle was a chasm the size of a city block. Grover was sliding straight towards the edge.

"Come on, Percy!" I yelled, tugging at his wrist.

"But that's –"

"I know!" I shouted. "The place you described in your dream! But Grover's going to fall if we don't catch him."

Grover's predicament got Percy moving again. He was yelling, clawing at the ground, but the winged shoes kept dragging him towards the pit, and it didn't look like we could possibly get to him in time.

What saved him were his hooves.

The flying sneakers had always been a loose fit on him, and finally Grover hit a big rock and the left shoe came flying off. It sped into the darkness, down into the chasm. The right shoe kept tugging him along, but not as fast. Grover was able to slow himself down by grabbing on to the big rock and using it like an anchor.

He was three meters from the edge of the pit when we caught him and hauled him back up the slope. The other winged shoe tugged itself off, circled around us angrily and kicked our heads in protest before flying off into the chasm to join its twin.

We all collapsed, exhausted, on the obsidian gravel. My limbs felt like lead.

Grover was scratched up pretty bad. His hands were bleeding. His eyes had gone slit-pupiled, goat style, the way they did whenever he was terrified.

"I don't know how..." he panted. "I didn't..."

"Wait," Percy said. "Listen." I heard something – a deep whisper in the darkness. This can be... It couldn't be... could it?

Another few seconds, and I said, "Percy, this place –"

"Shh." Percy stood. The sound was getting louder, a muttering, evil voice from far, far below us. Coming from the pit.

Grover sat up. "Wh – what's that noise?"

My eyes grew wide. I guess it could be. "Tartarus. The entrance to Tartarus."

Percy uncapped Anaklusmos.

The bronze sword expanded, gleaming in the darkness, and the evil voice seemed to falter, just for a moment, before resuming its chant.

I could almost make out words now, ancient, ancient words, older even than Greek. As if...

"Magic," Percy said.

"We have to get out of here," I said.

Together, we dragged Grover to his hooves and started back up the tunnel. My legs wouldn't move fast enough. Percy was falling behind. The voice got louder and angrier behind us, and we broke into a run.

Not a moment too soon.

A cold blast of wind pulled at our backs, as if the entire pit were inhaling. For a terrifying moment, I lost ground, my feet slipping in the gravel. If I'd been any closer to the edge, I would've been sucked in.

We kept struggling forward, and finally reached the top of the tunnel, where the cavern widened out into the Fields of Asphodel. The wind died. A wail of outrage echoed from deep in the tunnel. Something was not happy we'd got away.

"What was that?" Grover panted, when we'd collapsed in the relative safety of a black poplar grove. "One of Hades's pets?"

Percy and I looked at each other. I had an idea to Grover's question... but maybe I was overthinking it.

Percy capped his sword, put the pen back in his pocket.

"Let's keep going."

I looked at Grover. "Can you walk?" He swallowed.

"Yeah, sure. I never liked those shoes, anyway."

He tried to sound brave about it, but he was trembling as badly as Percy and I were. Whatever was in that pit was nobody's pet. It was unspeakably old and powerful.

I was almost relieved to turn my back on that tunnel and head towards the palace of Hades.

Almost.

The Furies circled the parapets, high in the gloom. The outer walls of the fortress glittered black, and the two-story-tall bronze gates stood wide open.

Up close, I saw that the engravings on the gates were scenes of death. Some were from modern times – an atomic bomb exploding over a city, a trench filled with gas mask-wearing soldiers, a line of African famine victims waiting with empty bowls – but all of them looked as if they'd been etched into the bronze thousands of years ago. I wondered if I was looking at prophecies that had come true.

Inside the courtyard was the strangest garden I'd ever seen. Multicolored mushrooms, poisonous shrubs and weird luminous plants grew without sunlight. Precious jewels made up for the lack of flowers, piles of rubies as big as my fist, clumps of raw diamonds. Standing here and there like frozen party guests were Medusa's garden statues, petrified children, satyrs and centaurs, all smiling grotesquely. In the center of the garden was an orchard of pomegranate trees, their orange blooms neon bright in the dark.

The tart smell of those pomegranates was almost overwhelming. I had a sudden desire to eat them, but then I remembered the story of Persephone. One bite of Underworld food, and we would never be able to leave.

"The garden of Persephone," I said. "Keep walking."

I pulled Grover away to keep him from picking a big juicy one. We walked up the steps of the palace, between black columns, through a black marble portico and into the house of Hades. The entry hall had a polished bronze floor, which seemed to boil in the reflected torchlight. There was no ceiling, just the cavern roof, far above. I guess they never had to worry about rain down here.

Every side doorway was guarded by a skeleton in military gear. Some wore Greek armor, some British redcoat uniforms, some camouflage with tattered American flags on the shoulders. They carried spears or muskets or M-16s. None of them bothered us, but their hollow eye sockets followed us as we walked down the hall, towards the big set of doors at the opposite end.

Two U.S. Marine skeletons guarded the doors. They grinned down at us, rocket-propelled grenade launchers held across their chests.

"You know," Grover mumbled, "I bet Hades doesn't have trouble with door-to-door salesmen."

"Well, guys," Percy said, catching up to us. "I suppose we should... knock?"

A hot wind blew down the corridor, and the doors swung open. The guards stepped aside.

"I guess that means "entrez,"," I said.

The room inside looked just like Percy described it from his dream.

Hades was one of the first gods I'd met who really struck me as godlike. He was at least three meters tall, for one thing, and dressed in black silk robes and a crown of braided gold. His skin was albino white, his hair shoulder-length and jet black. He wasn't bulked up like Ares, but he radiated power. He lounged on his throne of fused human bones, looking lithe, graceful and dangerous as a panther.

I immediately felt like he should be giving the orders. He knew more than I did. He should be my master.

Then I told myself to snap out of it. Hades's aura was affecting me, just as Ares's had. The Lord of the Dead resembled pictures I'd seen of Adolph Hitler, or Napoleon, or the terrorist leaders who direct suicide bombers. Hades had the same intense eyes, the same kind of mesmerizing, evil charisma.

"You are brave to come here, Son of Poseidon," he said in an oily voice. "After what you have done to me, very brave indeed. Or perhaps you are simply very foolish."

Percy stepped forward and I prayed he wouldn't act stupid.

"Lord and Uncle, I come with two requests."

Hades raised an eyebrow. When he sat forward in his throne, shadowy faces appeared in the folds of his black robes, faces of torment, as if the garment were stitched of trapped souls from the Fields of Punishment, trying to get out. The ADHD part of me wondered, off-task, whether the rest of his clothes were made the same way. What horrible things would you have to do in your life to get woven into Hades's underwear?

"Only two requests?" Hades said. "Arrogant child. As if you have not already taken enough. Speak, then. It amuses me not to strike you dead yet."

I swallowed. This was going about as well as I'd feared. I glanced at the empty, smaller throne next to Hades's. It was shaped like a black flower, gilded with gold. I wished Queen Persephone were here. She could calm her husband's moods. But it was summer. Of course, Persephone would be above in the world of light with her mother, the goddess of agriculture Demeter. Her visits, not the tilt of the earth, created the seasons.

I cleared my throat. My finger prodded Percy in the back.

"Lord Hades," he said. "Look, sir, there can't be a war among the gods. It would be... bad."

"Really bad,"Grover added helpfully.

"Return Zeus's master bolt to me," Percy said. "Please, sir. Let me carry it to Olympus."

Hades's eyes grew dangerously bright. "You dare keep up this pretense, after what you have done?" Percy glanced back at Grover and I. He looked as confused as I was.

"Um... Uncle," Percy said. "You keep saying "after what I've done". What exactly have I done?"

The throne room shook with a tremor so strong they probably felt it upstairs in Los Angeles. Debris fell from the cavern ceiling. Doors burst open all along the walls, and skeletal warriors marched in, hundreds of them, from every time period and nation in Western civilization. They lined the perimeter of the room, blocking the exits.

Hades bellowed, "Do you think I want war, godling?"

"You are the Lord of the Dead," he said carefully. "A war would expand your kingdom, right?"

"A typical thing for my brothers to say! Do you think I need more subjects? Did you not see the sprawl of Asphodel?"

"Well..."

"Have you any idea how much my kingdom has swollen in this past century alone, how many subdivisions I've had to open?"

Percy opened his mouth to respond, but Hades was on a roll now. I guess living the Underworld meant no therapists.

"More security ghouls," he moaned. "Traffic problems at the judgment pavilion. Double overtime for the staff. I used to be a rich god, Percy Jackson. I control all the precious metals under the earth. But my expenses!"

"Charon wants a pay raise," Percy blurted, remembering the fact. I smacked my hand to my forehead.

"Don't get me started on Charon!" Hades yelled. "He's been impossible ever since he discovered Italian suits! Problems everywhere, and I've got to handle all of them personally. The commute time alone from the palace to the gates is enough to drive me insane! And the dead just keep arriving. No, godling. I need no help getting subjects! I did not ask for this war."

"But you took Zeus's master bolt."

"Lies!"

More rumbling. Hades rose from his throne, towering to the height of a football goalpost.

"Your father may fool Zeus, boy, but I am not so stupid. I see his plan."

"His plan?"

"You were the thief on the winter solstice," he said. "Your father thought to keep you his little secret. He directed you into the throne room on Olympus. You took the master bolt and my helmet. Had I not sent my Fury to discover you at Yancy Academy, Poseidon might have succeeded in hiding his scheme to start a war. But now you have been forced into the open. You will be exposed as Poseidon's thief, and I will have my helmet back!"

"But..." I spoke, my mind going a hundred miles an hour. "Lord Hades, your helmet of darkness is missing, too?"

"Do not play innocent with me, girl. You and the satyr have been helping this hero – coming here to threaten me in Poseidon's name, no doubt – to bring me an ultimatum. Does Poseidon think I can be blackmailed into supporting him?"

"No!" Percy said. "Poseidon didn't – I didn't –"

"I have said nothing of the helmet's disappearance," Hades snarled, "because I had no illusions that anyone on Olympus would offer me the slightest justice, the slightest help. I can ill afford for word to get out that my most powerful weapon of fear is missing. So I searched for you myself, and when it was clear you were coming to me to deliver your threat, I did not try to stop you."

"You didn't try to stop us? But –"

"Return my helmet now, or I will stop death," Hades threatened. "That is my counter-proposal. I will open the earth and have the dead pour back into the world. I will make your lands a nightmare. And you, Percy Jackson – your skeleton will lead my army out of Hades."

The skeletal soldiers all took one step forward, making their weapons ready. At that point, I could see the anger rolling off of Percy.

"You're as bad as Zeus," he said. '"You think I stole from you? That's why you sent the Furies after me?"

"Of course," Hades said.

"And the other monsters?"

Hades curled his lip. "I had nothing to do with them. I wanted no quick death for you – I wanted you brought before me alive so you might face every torture in the Fields of Punishment. Why do you think I let you enter my kingdom so easily?"

"Easily?"

"Return my property!"

"But I don't have your helmet. I came for the master bolt."

"Which you already possess!" Hades shouted. "You came here with it. little fool, thinking you could threaten me!"

"But I didn't!"

"Open your pack, then." A horrible feeling struck me. Percy was falling behind ever since our encounter with Tartarus, his shoulders drooping has we walked.

He slung it off his shoulder and unzipped it. Inside was a sixty-centimeter-long metal cylinder, spiked on both ends, humming with energy.

"Percy," I said. "How –"

"I – I don't know. I don't understand."

"You heroes are always the same," Hades said. "Your pride makes you foolish, thinking you could bring such a weapon before me. I did not ask for Zeus's master bolt, but since it is here, you will yield it to me. I am sure it will make an excellent bargaining tool. And now... my helmet. Where is it?"

I was speechless. We had no helmet. We had no idea how the master bolt had got into Percy's backpack. I wanted to think Hades was pulling some kind of trick. Hades was the bad guy. But suddenly the world turned sideways. I realized we'd been played with. Zeus, Poseidon and Hades had been set at each other's throats by someone else. The master bolt had been in the backpack, and Percy got the backpack from...

"Lord Hades, wait," Percy said. "This is all a mistake."

"A mistake?" Hades roared. The skeletons aimed their weapons. From high above, there was a fluttering of leathery wings, and the three Furies swooped down to perch on the back of their master's throne. The one I had gotten a piggyback ride on grinned at me eagerly and flicked her whip.

"There is no mistake," Hades said. "I know why you have come – I know the real reason you brought the bolt. You came to bargain for her." Hades loosed a ball of gold fire from his palm.

It exploded on the steps in front of Percy, and there was a woman who looked like Percy, she would've been beautiful if her face hadn't been frozen in fear. Ms. Jackson was frozen in a shower of gold, just as she was at the moment when the Minotaur began to squeeze her to death.

Percy reached out to touch her, but drew his hand back sharply.

"Yes," Hades said with satisfaction. "I took her. I knew, Percy Jackson, that you would come to bargain with me eventually. Return my helmet, and perhaps I will let her go. She is not dead, you know. Not yet. But if you displease me, that will change."

Percy didn't respond as if he was lost in thought.

"Ah, the pearls," Hades said, and my blood froze. "Yes, my brother and his little tricks. Bring them forth, Percy Jackson."

Percy's hand moved to his pocket and he took out the pearls.

"Only three," Hades said. "What a shame. You do realize each only protects a single person. Try to take your mother, then, little godling. And which of your friends will you leave behind to spend eternity with me? Go on. Choose. Or give me the backpack and accept my terms."

Percy looked at Grover and I.

"We were tricked," he told us. "Set up."

"Well duh we were tricked" is what I wanted to say, instead I asked, "Yes, but why? And the voice in the pit –"

"I don't know yet," Percy said. "But I intend to ask."

"Decide, boy!" Hades yelled.

"Percy." Grover put his hand on my shoulder. "You can't give him the bolt."

"I know that."

"Leave me here," he said. "Use the third pearl on your mom."

"No!"

"I'm a satyr," Grover said. "We don't have souls like humans do. He can torture me until I die, but he won't get me forever. I'll just be reincarnated as a flower or something. It's the best way."

"No." I drew my bronze knife. I didn't have much left. Only Chiron and two friends I've had for a week. I had nothing to lose. "You two go on. Grover, you have to protect Percy. You have to get your searcher's license and start your quest for Pan. Get his mom out of here. I'll cover you. I plan to go down fighting."

"No way," Grover said. "I'm staying behind."

"Think again, goat boy," I said.

"Stop it, both of you!" Percy said, "I know what to do. Take these."

He handed them each a pearl.

I said, "But, Percy..."

He turned and faced his mother. I could see the desperation in his face. He wanted to sacrifice himself and use the last pearl on her, but he had to get the bolt back to Olympus and tell Zeus the truth. Percy had to stop the war.

"I'm sorry," Percy told her. "I'll be back. I'll find a way."

The smug look on Hades's face faded. He said, "Godling...?"

"I'll find your helmet, Uncle," he told him. "I'll return it. Remember about Charon's pay raise."

"Do not defy me –"

"And it wouldn't hurt to play with Cerberus once in a while. He likes red rubber balls."

"Percy Jackson, you will not –"

Percy shouted, "Now, guys!"

We smashed the pearls at our feet. For a scary moment, nothing happened.

Hades yelled, "Destroy them!"

The army of skeletons rushed forward, swords out, guns clicking to full automatic. The Furies lunged, their whips bursting into flame. Just as the skeletons opened fire, the pearl exploded at my feet with a burst of green light and a gust of fresh sea wind. I was encased in a milky white sphere, which was starting to float off the ground. Percy and Grover were right next to me. Spears and bullets sparked harmlessly off the pearl bubbles as we floated up. Hades yelled with such rage, the entire fortress shook and I knew it was not going to be a peaceful night in L.A.

"Look up!" Grover yelled. "We're going to crash!"

Sure enough, we were racing right towards the stalactites, which I figured would pop our bubbles and skewer us.

"How do you control these things?" I shouted.

"I don't think you do!" Percy shouted back. We screamed as the bubbles slammed into the ceiling and... Darkness.

Were we dead?

No, I could still feel the racing sensation. We were going up, right through solid rock as easily as an air bubble in water. That was the power of the pearls, I realized what Percy had said – _What belongs to the sea will always return to the sea_.

For a few moments, I couldn't see anything outside the smooth walls of my sphere, then my pearl broke through on the ocean floor. The two other milky spheres, Percy and Grover, kept pace with me as we soared upward through the water. And _ker-blam!_

We exploded on the surface, in the middle of Los Angeles Bay, knocking a surfer off his board with an indignant, "Dude!"

Percy grabbed Grover and hauled him over to a lifebuoy. He caught me and dragged me over too. A curious shark was circling us, a great white about three meters long.

Percy said, "Beat it."

The shark turned and raced away. The surfer screamed something about bad mushrooms and paddled away from us as fast as he could.

Somehow, I knew what time it was: early morning, June 21, the day of the summer solstice.

In the distance, Los Angeles was on fire, plumes of smoke rising from neighborhoods all over the city. There had been an earthquake, all right, and it was Hades's fault. He was probably sending an army of the dead after Percy right now.

But at the moment, the Underworld wasn't our biggest problem.

I had to get to shore. We had to get Zeus's thunderbolt back to Olympus. Most of all, we had to have a serious conversation with the god who'd tricked us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: ANOTHER 4K WORD CHAPTER WE LOVE TO SEE IT!!!  
> and happy early new year everyone!!


	16. Percy Battles His Jerk Relative

A Coast Guard boat picked us up, but they were too busy to keep us for long, or to wonder how three kids in street clothes had got out into the middle of the bay. There was a disaster to mop up. Their radios were jammed with distress calls.

They dropped us off at the Santa Monica pier with towels around our shoulders and water bottles that said I'M A JUNIOR COAST GUARD! and sped off to save more people. Our clothes were sopping wet. Percy was also barefoot, because he had given his shoes to Grover. Better the Coast Guard wonder why one of us was barefoot than wonder why one of us had hooves.

After reaching dry land, we stumbled down the beach, watching the city burn against a beautiful sunrise. I felt as if I'd just come back from the dead – which I had. And I was furious.

"I don't believe it," I said. "We went all that way –"

"It was a trick," Percy said. "A strategy worthy of Athena."

"Hey," I warned.

"You get it, don't you?" I dropped my eyes, my anger fading.

"Yeah. I get it."

"Well, I don't!" Grover complained. "Would somebody –"

"Percy..." I said. "I'm sorry about your mother. I'm so sorry...."

The truth was that I was actually sorry. My heart ached to be back with Chiron, and I've only been gone a week.

He pretended not to hear me and instead said, "The prophecy was right, 'You shall go west and face the god who has turned.' But it wasn't Hades. Hades didn't want war between the Big Three. Someone else pulled off the theft. Someone stole Zeus's master bolt, and Hades's helmet, and framed me because I'm Poseidon's kid. Poseidon will get blamed by both sides. By sundown today, there will be a three-way war. And I'll have caused it."

Grover shook his head, mystified. "But who would be that sneaky? Who would want war that bad?"

Percy stopped in his tracks, looking down the beach.

"Gee, let me think."

There he was, waiting for us, in his black leather duster and his sunglasses, an aluminum baseball bat propped on his shoulder. His motorcycle rumbled beside him, its headlight turning the sand red.

"Hey, kid," Ares said, seeming genuinely pleased to see Percy. "You were supposed to die."

"You tricked me," Percy said. "You stole the helmet and the master bolt."

Ares grinned. "Well, now, I didn't steal them personally. Gods taking each other's symbols of power – that's a big no-no. But you're not the only hero in the world who can run errands."

"Who did you use? Clarisse? She was there at the winter solstice."

The idea seemed to amuse him.

"Doesn't matter. The point is, kid, you're impeding the war effort. See, you've got to die in the Underworld. Then Old Seaweed will be mad at Hades for killing you. Corpse Breath will have Zeus's master bolt, so Zeus'll be mad at him. And Hades is still looking for this..."

From his pocket he took out a ski cap – the kind bank robbers wear – and placed it between the handlebars of his bike. Immediately, the cap transformed into an elaborate bronze war helmet.

"The helmet of darkness," Grover gasped.

"Exactly," Ares said. "Now where was I? Oh yeah, Hades will be mad at both Zeus and Poseidon, because he doesn't know who took this. Pretty soon, we got a nice little three-way slugfest going."

"But they're your family!" I protested. I didn't understand why Ares wanted to purposely hurt his family. As much as my father and step-mother had hurt me, I wouldn't wish for harm on either of them.

He shrugged. "Best kind of war. Always the bloodiest. Nothing like watching your relatives fight, I always say."

"You gave me the backpack in Denver," Percy said. "The master bolt was in there the whole time."

"Yes and no," Ares said. "It's probably too complicated for your little mortal brain to follow, but the backpack is the master bolt's sheath, just morphed a bit. The bolt is connected to it, sort of like that sword you got, kid. It always returns to your pocket, right?"

I wasn't sure how Ares knew about that, but I guess a god of war had to make it his business to know about weapons.

"Anyway," Ares continued, "I tinkered with the magic a bit, so the bolt would only return to the sheath once you reached the Underworld. You get close to Hades... Bingo, you got mail. If you died along the way – no loss. I still had the weapon."

I tried to hide my excitement. That could be extremely useful on future quests. If your carrying something monsters wanted, sheath it into the bag and they wouldn't know where it went.

"But why not just keep the master bolt for yourself?" Percy said. "Why send it to Hades?"

Ares got a twitch in his jaw. For a moment, it was almost as if he were listening to another voice, deep inside his head.

"Why didn't I... yeah... with that kind of fire-power..." He held the trance for one second... two seconds... I exchanged nervous looks with Percy.

Ares's face cleared. "I didn't want the trouble. Better to have you caught redhanded, holding the thing."

Are's was lying. He was a minion for someone. But who would the god of war would let him be his master?

"You're lying," Percy said. "Sending the bolt to the Underworld wasn't your idea, was it?"

"Of course it was!" Smoke drifted up from his sunglasses, as if they were about to catch fire.

"You didn't order the theft," Percy guessed. "Someone else sent a hero to steal the two items. Then, when Zeus sent you to hunt him down, you caught the thief. But you didn't turn him over to Zeus. Something convinced you to let him go. You kept the items until another hero could come along and complete the delivery. That thing in the pit is ordering you around."

"I am the god of war! I take orders from no one! I don't have dreams!"

Percy hesitated. "Who said anything about dreams?"

Ares looked agitated, but he tried to cover it with a smirk.

"Let's get back to the problem at hand, kid. You're alive. I can't have you taking that bolt to Olympus. You just might get those hardheaded idiots to listen to you. So I've got to kill you. Nothing personal."

He snapped his fingers. The sand exploded at his feet and out charged a wild boar, even larger and uglier than the one whose head hung above the door of cabin seven at Camp Half-Blood. The beast pawed the sand, glaring at Percy with beady eyes as it lowered its razor-sharp tusks and waited for the command to kill.

Percy stepped into the surf. "Fight me yourself, Ares."

He laughed, but I heard a little edge to his laughter... an uneasiness.

"You've only got one talent, kid, running away. You ran from the Chimera. You ran from the Underworld. You don't have what it takes."

"Scared?"

"In your adolescent dreams." But his sunglasses were starting to melt from the heat of his eyes. "No direct involvement. Sorry, kid. You're not at my level."

I pulled out my dagger, but Grover grabbed my arm and shook his head.

"Percy, run!"

The giant boar charged. As it rushed him, he uncapped his pen and sidestepped. Riptide appeared in his hands. Percy slashed upward. The boar's severed right tusk fell at his feet, while the disoriented animal charged into the sea.

Percy shouted, "Wave!" Immediately, a wave surged up from nowhere and engulfed the boar, wrapping around it like a blanket. The beast squealed once in terror. Then it was gone, swallowed by the sea.

I blinked. Percy turned back to Ares.

"Are you going to fight me now?" He asked. "Or are you going to hide behind another pet pig?"

Ares's face was purple with rage. "Watch it, kid. I could turn you into –"

"A cockroach," Percy said. "Or a tapeworm. Yeah, I'm sure. That'd save you from getting your godly hide whipped, wouldn't it?"

Flames danced along the top of his glasses. "Oh, man, you are really asking to be smashed into a grease spot."

"If I lose, turn me into anything you want. Take the bolt. If I win, the helmet and the bolt are mine and you have to go away."

Ares sneered.

He swung the baseball bat off his shoulder. "How would you like to get smashed: classic or modern?"

Percy showed him his sword.

"That's cool, dead boy," he said. "Classic it is."

The baseball bat changed into a huge, two-handed sword. The hilt was a large silver skull with a ruby in its mouth.

"Percy," I said. "Don't do this. He's a god."

"He's a coward," He told me.

I swallowed. "Wear this, at least. For luck." And for the first time in five years, I took off my necklace, with my five years' worth of camp beads and the ring from my father, and tied it around his neck.

"Reconciliation," I said. "Athena and Poseidon together."

Percy blushed and smiled. "Thanks."

"And take this," Grover said. He handed him a flattened tin can that he'd probably been saving in his pocket for a thousand miles.

"The satyrs stand behind you."

"Grover... I don't know what to say."

He patted Percy on the shoulder. He stuffed the tin can in his back pocket.

"You all done saying goodbye?" Ares came towards us, his black leather duster trailing behind him, his sword glinting like fire in the sunrise.

"I've been fighting for eternity, kid. My strength is unlimited and I cannot die. What have you got?"

A smaller ego, I thought, but nobody said anything.

Percy kept his feet in the surf, backing into the water up to his ankles.

He cleaved downward at Percy's head, but he wasn't there.

The water seemed to push him into the air and he catapulted over him, slashing as he came down. But Ares was just as quick. He twisted, and the strike that should've caught him directly in the spine was deflected off the end of his sword hilt.

He grinned. "Not bad, not bad." He slashed again and Percy was forced to jump onto dry land. He tried to sidestep, to get back to the water, but Ares seemed to know what he wanted. He outmanoeuvred Percy, pressing so hard his face was already red with concentration. He kept backing away from the surf. There weren't any openings to attack. His sword had a reach a meter longer than Anaklusmos.

Get in close, I thought. When you've got the shorter blade, get in close.

As if reading my thoughts Percy stepped inside with a thrust, but Ares was waiting for that. He knocked his blade out of his hands and kicked him in the chest. Percy went airborne – fifteen, maybe twenty meters. He would've broken his back if he hadn't crashed into the soft sand of a dune.

I looked past Percy and groaned. I saw red lights flashing on the shoreline boulevard. Car doors were slamming.

"Percy!" I yelled. "Cops!"

He managed to get to his feet. He never looked away from Ares but he nodded.

"There, officer!" somebody yelled. "See?"

A gruff cop voice: "Looks like that kid on TV... what the heck..."

"That guy's armed," another cop said. "Call for backup."

Percy rolled to one side as Ares's blade slashed the sand. He ran for his sword, scooped it up, and launched a swipe at Ares's face, only to find his blade deflected again.

Ares seemed to know exactly what Percy was going to do the moment before he did it. Percy stepped back towards the surf, forcing him to follow.

"Admit it, kid," Ares said. "You got no hope. I'm just toying with you."

My senses were working overtime. I didn't know how I could help Percy. My ADHD was acting like it usually did when I was in battle, even though I wasn't actually fighting.

I was wide awake, noticing every little detail. I could see where Ares was tensing. I could tell which way he would strike. At the same time, I was aware of Grover holding my hand so tightly it was numb.

I saw a second cop car pulling up, siren wailing. Spectators, people who had been wandering the streets because of the earthquake, were starting to gather. Among the crowd, I thought I saw a few who were walking with the strange, trotting gait of disguised satyrs. There were shimmering forms of spirits, too, as if the dead had risen from Hades to watch the battle. I heard the flap of leathery wings circling somewhere above. I looked up.

"Grover," I whispered, "The Kindly Ones are here."

I heard him gulp. More sirens. Percy stepped further into the water, but Ares was fast. The tip of his blade ripped his sleeve and grazed his forearm.

A police voice on a megaphone said, "Drop the guns! Set them on the ground. Now!"

Guns? I looked at Ares's weapon, and it seemed to be flickering; sometimes it looked like a shotgun, sometimes a two-handed sword. I didn't know what the humans were seeing in Percy's hands, but I was pretty sure it wouldn't make them like him.

Ares turned to glare at their spectators, which gave Percy a moment to breathe. He turned to us and gave us a thumbs up. There were five police cars now, and a line of officers crouching behind them, pistols trained on us.

"This is a private matter!" Ares bellowed. "Be gone!" He swept his hand, and a wall of red flame rolled across the patrol cars. The police barely had time to dive for cover before their vehicles exploded. The crowd behind them scattered, screaming.

Ares roared with laughter. "Now, little hero. Let's add you to the barbecue."

He slashed. Percy deflected his blade. He got close enough to strike, tried to fake him out with a feint, but his blow was knocked aside. The waves were hitting Percy in the back now. Ares was up to his thighs, wading in after him.

Suddenly the waves shrunk until they were barely anything.

Ares grinned and raised his sword.

Percy released the tide he was holding and jumped, rocketing straight over Ares on a wave. A two-meter wall of water smashed him full in the face, leaving him cursing and sputtering with a mouth full of seaweed.

Percy landed behind him with a splash and feinted towards his head. He turned in time to raise his sword, but this time he was disoriented, he didn't anticipate the trick.

Percy changed direction, lunged to the side and stabbed Riptide straight down into the water, sending the point through the god's heel I realized. The roar that followed made Hades's earthquake look like a minor event. The very sea was blasted back from Ares, leaving a wet circle of sand fifteen meters wide.

Ichor, the golden blood of the gods, flowed from a gash in the war god's boot. The expression on his face was beyond hatred. It was pain, shock, complete disbelief that he'd been wounded.

He limped towards Percy, muttering ancient Greek curses.

Something stopped him. It was as if a cloud covered the sun, but worse. Light faded. Sound and color drained away. A cold, heavy presence passed over the beach, slowing time, dropping the temperature to freezing and making me feel like life was hopeless, fighting was useless.

The darkness lifted.

Ares looked stunned. Police cars were burning behind us. The crowd of spectators had fled. Percy stood in hidden shock, watching the water flood back around Ares's feet, his glowing golden ichor dissipating in the tide.

Ares lowered his sword.

"You have made an enemy, godling," he told Percy. "You have sealed your fate. Every time you raise your blade in battle, every time you hope for success, you will feel my curse. Beware, Perseus Jackson. Beware."

His body began to glow.

"Percy!" I shouted. "Don't watch!" I turned away as the god Ares revealed his true immortal form. If a mortal were to look, they would disintegrate into ashes.

The light died.

I looked back. Ares was gone. The tide rolled out to reveal Hades's bronze helmet of darkness. Percy picked it up and walked towards us.

But before he got there, I heard the flapping of leathery wings. Three evil-looking grandmothers with lace hats and fiery whips drifted down from the sky and landed in front of me.

The middle Fury, the one who had been Mrs Dodds, stepped forward. Her fangs were bared, but for once she didn't look threatening. She looked more disappointed, as if she'd been planning to have us for supper, but had decided we might give her indigestion.

"We saw the whole thing," she hissed. "So... it truly was not you?"

Percy tossed her the helmet, which she caught in surprise.

"Return that to Lord Hades," he said. "Tell him the truth. Tell him to call off the war."

She hesitated, then ran a forked tongue over her green, leathery lips. "Live well, Percy Jackson. Become a true hero. Because if you do not, if you ever come into my clutches again..."

She cackled, savoring the idea. Then she and her sisters rose on their bat's wings, fluttered into the smoke-filled sky and disappeared.

Percy joined us.

"Percy..." Grover said. 'That was so incredibly..."

"Terrifying," I said.

"Cool!" Grover corrected.

Percy looked like he was ready to pass out. "Did you guys feel that... whatever it was?" He asked.

I nodded uneasily.

"Must've been the Furies overhead," Grover said.

But I wasn't so sure. Something had stopped Ares from killing Percy, and whatever could do that was a lot stronger than the Furies.

Percy looked at me, and an understanding passed between us. I knew now what was in that pit, what had spoken from the entrance of Tartarus.

Percy reclaimed his backpack from Grover and looked inside. The master bolt was still there. Such a small thing to almost cause World War III.

"We have to get back to New York," Percy said. "By tonight."

"That's impossible," I said, "unless we –"

"Fly," Percy agreed.

I stared at him. "Fly, like, in an aeroplane, which you were warned never to do lest Zeus strike you out of the sky, and carrying a weapon that has more destructive power than a nuclear bomb?"

"Yeah," he said. "Pretty much exactly like that. Come on." ****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: this was really hard to write but FINALLY its done


	17. Percy Settles His Tab

It's funny how humans can wrap their mind around things and fit them into their version of reality. Chiron had told me that long ago.

According to the L.A. news, the explosion at the Santa Monica beach had been caused when a crazy kidnapper fired a shotgun at a police car. He accidentally hit a gas main that had ruptured during the earthquake.

This crazy kidnapper (a.k.a. Ares) was the same man who had abducted me and two other adolescents in New York and brought us across the country on a ten-day odyssey of terror. Poor little Percy Jackson wasn't an international criminal, after all. He'd caused a commotion on that Greyhound bus in New Jersey trying to get away from his captor (and afterwards, witnesses would even swear they had seen the leather-clad man on the bus – "Why didn't I remember him before?") The crazy man had caused the explosion in the St Louis Arch. After all, no kid could've done that. A concerned waitress in Denver had seen the man threatening his abductees outside her diner, gotten a friend to take a photo and notified the police. Finally, brave Percy Jackson (I was beginning to hate this kid) had stolen a gun from his captor in Los Angeles and battled him shotgun-to rifle on the beach. Police had arrived just in time. But in the spectacular explosion, five police cars had been destroyed and the captor had fled. No fatalities had occurred. Percy Jackson and his two friends were safely in police custody.

The reporters fed us this whole story. We just nodded and acted tearful and exhausted (which wasn't hard), and played victimized kids for the cameras.

"All I want," Percy said, choking back fake tears, "is to see my loving stepfather again. Every time I saw him on TV, calling me a delinquent punk, I knew... somehow... we would be okay. And I know he'll want to reward each and every person in this beautiful city of Los Angeles with a free major appliance from his store. Here's the phone number."

The police and reporters were so moved that they passed around the hat and raised money for three tickets on the next plane to New York.

I knew there was no choice but to fly. I hoped Zeus would cut us some slack, considering the circumstances. But it was still hard to force Percy on board the flight.

Takeoff was a nightmare. Percy acted like every spot of turbulence was scarier than a Greek monster. He didn't unclench his hands from the armrests until we touched down safely at LaGuardia. The local press was waiting for us outside security, but we managed to evade them thanks to me, luring them away in my invisible Yankees cap, shouting, "They're over by the frozen yogurt! Come on!", then rejoined them at baggage claim. We split up at the taxi stand.

Percy told Grover and I to get back to Half-Blood Hill and let Chiron know what had happened. We protested, and it was hard to let us go after all we'd been through, but I knew Percy wouldn't change his mind about doing the last part of the quest by himself.

We watched as Percy hopped in a taxi and waved him goodbye as he drove into Manhattan.

"Grover,"

"Fine! I'll go talk to Chiron while you follow Percy!"

I stared at him. "How'd you know I was going to ask you that?"

"I'm a saytr! I can read your emotions. Also, I was going to suggest it anyway."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! I don't want him to get smited either! Now get going!"

"Eh, Zeus smiting Percy might solve our problems."

Grover punched me.

Thirty minutes later, I walked into the lobby of the Empire State Building. I probably would have looked like a homeless kid, with my tattered clothes and my scraped-up face, except for the fact that I was invisible.

"Oh, I think he'll make an exception." A voice said.

I turned to look as Percy slipped off his backpack and unzipped the top. The guard looked inside at the metal cylinder, not getting what it was for a few seconds. Then his face went pale.

"That isn't..."

"Yes, it is," Percy promised. "You want me to take it out and –"

"No! No!" He scrambled out of his seat, fumbled around his desk for a key card, then handed it to Percy.

"Insert this in the security slot. Make sure nobody else is in the elevator with you."

Percy smiled and walked into the elevator. I quickly followed.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Percy slipped the key into the slot. The card disappeared and a new button appeared on the console, a red one that said 600.

Percy pressed it and waited, and waited.

Muzak played. "Raindrops keep falling on my head..."

Finally, _ding_. The doors slid open.

Percy stepped out and gasped. We were standing on a narrow stone walkway in the middle of the air. Below us was Manhattan, from the height of an aeroplane. In front of us, white marble steps wound up the spine of a cloud, into the sky. From the top of the clouds rose the decapitated peak of a mountain, its summit covered with snow. Clinging to the mountainside were dozens of multileveled palaces – a city of mansions – all with white-columned porticos, gilded terraces and bronze braziers glowing with a thousand fires. Roads wound crazily up to the peak, where the largest palace gleamed against the snow. Precariously perched gardens bloomed with olive trees and rosebushes. I could make out an open-air market filled with colorful tents, a stone amphitheater built on one side of the mountain, a hippodrome and a coliseum on the other. It was an Ancient Greek city, except it wasn't in ruins. It was new, and clean, and colorful, the way Athens must've looked twenty-five hundred years ago.

We passed some giggling wood nymphs who threw olives at Percy from their garden. Hawkers in the market offered to sell him ambrosia-on-a-stick, and a new shield, and a genuine glitter-weave replica of the Golden Fleece, as seen on Hephaestus-TV The nine muses were tuning their instruments for a concert in the park while a small crowd gathered – satyrs and naiads and a bunch of good-looking teenagers who might've been minor gods and goddesses. Nobody seemed worried about an impending civil war. In fact, everybody seemed in a festive mood. Several of them turned to watch Percy pass, and whispered to themselves.

We climbed the main road, towards the big palace at the peak. It was a reverse copy of the palace in the Underworld. There, everything had been black and bronze. Here, everything glittered white and silver. I realized Hades must've built his palace to resemble this one. He wasn't welcomed in Olympus except on winter solstice, so he'd built his own Olympus underground. Despite my bad experiences with him, I felt a little sorry for the guy. To be banished from this place seemed really unfair. It would make anybody bitter.

Steps led up to a central courtyard. Past that, the throne room.

 _Room_ really isn't the right word. The place made Grand Central Station look like a broom closet. Massive columns rose to a domed ceiling, which was gilded with moving constellations.

Twelve thrones, built for beings the size of Hades, were arranged in an inverted U, just like the cabins at Camp Half-Blood. An enormous fire crackled in the central hearth pit. The thrones were empty except for two at the end: the head throne on the right, and the one to its immediate left. I didn't have to be told who the two gods were that were sitting there, waiting for Percy to approach.

Percy came towards them, his legs trembling. The gods were in giant human form, as Hades had been, but I could barely look at them without feeling a tingle, as if my body were starting to burn. Zeus, the Lord of the Gods, wore a dark blue, pinstriped suit. He sat on a simple throne of solid platinum. He had a well-trimmed beard, marbled grey and black like a storm cloud. His face was proud and handsome and grim, his eyes rainy grey. As I got nearer to him, the air crackled and smelled of ozone. The god sitting next to him was his brother, without a doubt, but he was dressed very differently. He reminded me of a beachcomber from Key West. He wore leather sandals, khaki Bermuda shorts, and a Tommy Bahama shirt with coconuts and parrots all over it. His skin was deeply tanned, his hands scarred like an old-time fisherman's. His hair was black. But his eyes, I realized, were sea-green like Percy's, were surrounded by sun-crinkles that told me he smiled a lot, too.

His throne was a deep-sea fisherman's chair. It was the simple swiveling kind, with a black leather seat and a built-in holster for a fishing pole. Instead of a pole, the holster held a bronze trident, flickering with green light around the tips.

The gods weren't moving or speaking, but there was tension in the air, as if they'd just finished an argument. Percy approached the fisherman's throne and knelt at his feet.

"Father."

I knelt in front of them both, knowing they wouldn't be fooled by my Yankees cap.

I could feel Zeus's eyes burning into me. I dared not look up. My heart was racing. I could feel the energy emanating from the two gods. If Percy said the wrong thing, I had no doubt they could blast him, and me, into dust.

To my left, Zeus spoke. "Should you not address the master of this house first, boy?"

Percy kept his head down, and waited.

"Peace, brother," Poseidon finally said. "The boy defers to his father. This is only right."

"You still claim him then?" Zeus asked menacingly. "You claim this child whom you sired against our sacred oath?"

"I have admitted my wrongdoing," Poseidon said. "Now I would hear him speak."

Percy froze and anger starting swelling up inside of me.

Was that all he was? A wrongdoing? The result of a god's mistake? Percy was way more than that! I mean, yeah he was an idiot. But he could be useful! Sometimes.

"I have spared him once already," Zeus grumbled. "Daring to fly through my domain... pah! I should have blasted him out of the sky for his impudence."

"And risk destroying your own master bolt?" Poseidon asked calmly. "Let us hear him out, brother."

Zeus grumbled some more. "I shall listen," he decided. "Then I shall make up my mind whether or not to cast this boy down from Olympus."

"Perseus," Poseidon said. "Look at me." Percy did, and I wasn't sure what Percy saw in Poseidon's face, but I saw no clear sign of love or approval. No encouragement. It was like looking at the ocean: some days, you could tell what mood it was in. Most days, though, it was unreadable, mysterious.

I got the feeling Poseidon really didn't know what to think of Percy. He didn't know whether he was happy to have him as a son or not.

"Address Lord Zeus, boy," Poseidon told him. "Tell him your story."

So Percy told Zeus everything, just as it had happened. He took out the metal cylinder, which began sparking in the Sky Gods presence, and laid it at his feet.

There was a long silence, broken only by the crackle of the hearth fire.

Zeus opened his palm. The lightning bolt flew into it. As he closed his fist, the metallic points flared with electricity, until he was holding what looked more like the classic thunderbolt, a five meter javelin of arcing, hissing energy that made the hairs on my scalp rise.

"I sense the boy tells the truth," Zeus muttered. "But that Ares would do such a thing... it is most unlike him."

"He is proud and impulsive," Poseidon said. "It runs in the family."

"Lord?" Percy asked.

They both said, "Yes?"

I held back a laugh.

"Ares didn't act alone. Someone else – something else – came up with the idea."

Percy described his dreams, and the feeling he had on the beach, that momentary breath of evil that had seemed to stop the world and made Ares back off from killing him.

"In the dreams," Percy said, "the voice told me to bring the bolt to the Underworld. Ares hinted that he'd been having dreams, too. I think he was being used, just as I was, to start a war."

"You are accusing Hades, after all?" Zeus asked.

"No," Percy said. "I mean, Lord Zeus, I've been in the presence of Hades. This feeling on the beach was different. It was the same thing I felt when I got close to that pit. That was the entrance to Tartarus, wasn't it? Something powerful and evil is stirring down there... something even older than the gods."

Poseidon and Zeus looked at each other. They had a quick, intense discussion in Ancient Greek. I only caught a few words, one of them being _father_.

Poseidon made some kind of suggestion, but Zeus cut him off. Poseidon tried to argue. Zeus held up his hand angrily.

They couldn't possibly mean...?

"We will speak of this no more," Zeus said. "I must go personally to purify this thunderbolt in the waters of Lemnos, to remove the human taint from its metal."

He rose and looked at Percy. His expression softened just a fraction of a degree. "You have done me a service, boy. Few heroes could have accomplished as much."

"I had help, sir," Percy said. "Grover Underwood and Annabeth Chase –"

"To show you my thanks, I shall spare your life. I do not trust you, Perseus Jackson. I do not like what your arrival means for the future of Olympus. But for the sake of peace in the family, I shall let you live."

"Um... thank you, sir."

"Do not presume to fly again. Do not let me find you here when I return. Otherwise you shall taste this bolt. And it shall be your last sensation."

Thunder shook the palace. With a blinding flash of lightning, Zeus was gone. I suddenly felt like I was intruding in on a private matter.

Poseidon's mouth began moving, but no sound came out. I realized he must've done something so only Percy could hear him. So I wouldn't intrude on their conversation.

I walked out of the throne room and waited for Percy in the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: i'm so sad this is going to be over next chapter. i've decided i'm going to write all the other PJO books in Annabeth's perspective too so stay tuned!


	18. Chapter 18

We were the first heroes to return alive to Half-Blood Hill since Luke, so of course everybody treated us as if we'd won some reality TV contest. According to camp tradition, we wore laurel wreaths to a big feast prepared in our honor, then led a procession down to the bonfire, where we got to burn the burial shrouds our cabins had made for us in our absence.

My shroud was beautiful – grey silk with embroidered owls – Percy told me it seemed a shame not to bury me in it. I punched him and told him to shut up. Being the son of Poseidon, Percy didn't have any cabin mates, so the Ares cabin had volunteered to make his shroud. They'd taken an old bedsheet and painted smiley faces with X'ed-out eyes around the border, and the word LOSER painted really big in the middle.

It was fun to burn.

As Apollo's cabin led the sing-along and passed out toasted marshmallows, I was surrounded by my siblings. Some of my siblings and Grover's satyr buddies, who were admiring the brand new searcher's license he'd received from the Council of Cloven Elders. The council had called Grover's performance on the quest "Brave to the point of indigestion. Horns-and whiskers above anything we have seen in the past."

The only ones not in a party mood were Clarisse and her cabinmates, whose poisonous looks told me they'd never forgive Percy for disgracing their dad.

Even Dionysus's welcome-home speech wasn't enough to dampen my spirits. "Yes, yes, so the little brat didn't get himself killed and now he'll have an even bigger head. Well, huzzah for that. In other announcements, there will be no canoe races this Saturday..."

I moved back into cabin six with my siblings, but I didn't feel so lonely any more. I had my friends to train with during the day. At night I couldn't help but think about what Percy said when we were in the truck.

_You should write him a letter or something._

I sighed and got out of bed to grab a pencil and paper.

A week later I had gotten my reply, but I wasn't so sure if I was up to it. The decision should have been easy. I mean, nine months of hero training or nine months of sitting in a classroom – duh. But there was my dad to consider. For the second time, I had the chance to live with him again, and maybe it wouldn't go so badly.

But the real world is where the monsters are. That's where you learn whether you're any good or not. I thought about the fate of Thalia, daughter of Zeus. I wondered how many monsters would attack me if I left Half-Blood Hill. If I stayed in one place for a whole school year, without Chiron or my friends around to help me, would my family and I even survive until the next summer?

On the Fourth of July, the whole camp gathered at the beach for a fireworks display by cabin nine. Being Hephaestus's kids, they weren't going to settle for a few lame red-white-and-blue explosions. They'd anchored a barge offshore and loaded it with rockets the size of Patriot missiles. I told Percy the blasts would be sequenced so tightly they'd look like frames of animation across the sky. The finale was supposed to be a couple of thirty-meter-tall Spartan warriors who would crackle to life above the ocean, fight a battle, then explode into a million colors.

As Percy and I were spreading a picnic blanket, Grover showed up to tell us goodbye. He was dressed in his usual jeans and T-shirt and trainers, but in the last few weeks he'd started to look older, almost high-school age. His goatee had got thicker. He'd put on weight. His horns had grown a few centimeters at least, so he now had to wear his rasta cap all the time to pass as human.

"I'm off," he said. "I just came to say... well, you know."

I tried to feel happy for him. After all, it wasn't every day a satyr got permission to go look for the great god Pan. But it was hard saying goodbye. Grover was one of my oldest friends.

I gave him a hug and told him to keep his fake feet on.

Percy asked him where he was going to search first.

"Kind of a secret," he said, looking embarrassed. "I wish you could come with me, guys, but humans and Pan..."

"We understand," I said. "You got enough tin cans for the trip?"

"Yeah."

"And you remembered your reed pipes?"

"Jeez, Annabeth," he grumbled. "You're like an old mama goat."

But he didn't really sound annoyed. He gripped his walking stick and slung a backpack over his shoulder. He looked like any hitchhiker you might see on an American highway – nothing like the little runty boy I used to defend from the Ares kids.

"Well," he said, "wish me luck."

He gave me another hug. He clapped Percy on the shoulder, then headed back through the dunes. Fireworks exploded to life overhead: Hercules killing the Nemean lion, Artemis chasing the boar, George Washington (who, by the way, was a son of Athena) crossing the Delaware.

"Hey, Grover," Percy called. He turned at the edge of the woods. "Wherever you're going – I hope they make good enchiladas."

Grover grinned, and then he was gone, the trees closing around him.

"We'll see him again," I said. I tried to believe it. The fact that no searcher had ever come back in two thousand years... well, I decided not to think about that. Grover would be the first. He had to be.

July passed.

I spent my days devising new strategies for capture-the-flag and making alliances with the other cabins to keep the banner out of Ares's hands. Percy finally got to the top of the climbing wall for the first time without getting scorched by lava. From time to time, I'd walk past the Big House, glance up at the attic windows and think about the Oracle. I tried to convince myself that its prophecy had come to completion.

 _You shall go west, and face the god who has turned_.

Been there, done that – even though the traitor god turned out to be Ares rather than Hades.

 _You shall find what was stolen, and see it safely returned_.

Check. One master bolt delivered. One helmet of darkness back on Hades's oily head.

 _And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end_. Percy had failed to save his mom, but only because he'd let her save herself, and I knew that was the right thing. So why was I still uneasy?

The last night of the summer session came all too quickly. The campers had one last meal together. We burned part of our dinner for the gods. At the bonfire, the senior counsellors awarded the end-of-summer beads.

When I saw the bead for this year, I smiled. The design was pitch black, with a sea-green trident shimmering in the centre.

"The choice was unanimous," Luke announced. "This bead commemorates the first son of the Sea God at this camp, and the quest he undertook into the darkest part of the Underworld to stop a war!"

The entire camp got to their feet and cheered. Even Ares's cabin felt obliged to stand. Athena's cabin steered me to the front so I could share in the applause. I'm not sure I'd ever felt as happy or sad as I did at that moment. I had finally explored the world outside of camp, but it made me realize how much I missed everyone. And in the morning, most of them would be leaving for the year.

* * *

The next morning, I found a form letter on my bedside table. I knew Dionysus must've filled it out, because he stubbornly insisted on getting my name wrong:

_Dear Annabelle Take,_

_If you intend to stay at Camp Half-Blood year-_

_round, you must inform the Big House by noon_

_today. If you do not announce your intentions,_

_we will assume you have vacated your cabin or_

_died a horrible death. Cleaning harpies will begin_

_work at sundown. They will be authorized to eat_

_any unregistered campers. All personal articles_

_left behind will be incinerated in the lava pit._

_Have a nice day! Mr D (Dionysus) Camp Director, Olympian Council no.12_   
  


I threw the letter down on my bed. I had already told Chiron my decision, but was it the right one to make?

"Annabeth!" Will stumbled into my cabin.

"What happened? What's wrong?"

"It's Percy... he's been poisoned."

Percy was in a sickroom in the Big House when I ran in.

"I have other campers to attend to, you got him?"

I nodded and walked in. Argus was in the corner, and Chiron was tending to Percy.

Percy's face was a sick grey color, and he wasn't moving and I watched Chiron to get to work.

I bandaged his right hand, where apparently he'd been poisoned. He finally woke up when I gave him some nectar.

I was sitting next to him, holding the nectar glass and dabbing a washcloth on his forehead.

He grinned. "Here we are again,"

"You idiot," I said, and his grin grew even bigger, "You were green and turning grey when we found you. If it weren't for Chiron's healing..."

"Now, now," Chiron said. "Percy's constitution deserves some of the credit."

He was sitting near the foot of the bed in human form, his lower half was magically compacted into the wheelchair, his upper half dressed in a coat and tie. He smiled, but his face looked weary and pale.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. 

"Like my insides have been frozen, then microwaved."

"Apt, considering that was pit scorpion venom. Now you must tell me, if you can, exactly what happened."

Between sips of nectar, Percy told us the story. The room was quiet for a long time.

"I can't believe that Luke..." My voice faltered, and then I got angry when the realization hit me. "Yes. Yes, I can believe it. May the gods curse him... He was never the same after his quest."

"This must be reported to Olympus," Chiron murmured. "I will go at once."

"Luke is out there right now," Percy said. "I have to go after him."

Chiron shook his head. "No, Percy. The gods –"

"Won't even talk about Kronos," Percy snapped. "Zeus declared the matter closed!"

"Percy, I know this is hard. But you must not rush out for vengeance. You aren't ready."

Percy stayed quiet and then said, "Chiron... your prophecy from the Oracle... it was about Kronos, wasn't it? Was I in it? And Annabeth?"

I froze. Chiron glanced nervously at the ceiling. "Percy, it isn't my place –"

"You've been ordered not to talk to me about it, haven't you?"

His eyes were sympathetic, but sad. "You will be a great hero, child. I will do my best to prepare you. But if I'm right about the path ahead of you..."

Thunder boomed overhead, rattling the windows.

"All right!" Chiron shouted. "Fine!" He sighed in frustration. "The gods have their reasons, Percy. Knowing too much of your future is never a good thing."

"We can't just sit back and do nothing," Percy said.

"We will not sit back," Chiron promised. "But you must be careful. Kronos wants you to come unravelled. He wants your life disrupted, your thoughts clouded with fear and anger. Do not give him what he wants. Train patiently. Your time will come."

"Assuming I live that long."

Chiron put his hand on Percy's ankle. "You'll have to trust me, Percy. You will live. But first you must decide your path for the coming year. I cannot tell you the right choice..."

I got the feeling that he had a very definite opinion, and it was taking all his willpower not to advise Percy. "... But you must decide whether to stay at Camp Half-Blood year-round, or return to the mortal world for seventh grade and be a summer camper. Think on that. When I get back from Olympus, you must tell me your decision."

Percy wanted to protest, it was written all over his face but Chiron's expression told him there could be no more discussion; he had said as much as he could.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Chiron promised. "Argus will watch over you."

He glanced at me. "Oh, and, my dear... whenever you're ready, they're here."

"Who's here?" Percy asked.

Nobody answered. Chiron rolled himself out of the room. I heard the wheels of his chair clunk carefully down the front steps, two at a time. I suddenly became very interested the ice in Percy's drink.

"What's wrong?" Percy asked me.

"Nothing." I set the glass on the table. "I... just took your advice about something. You... um... need anything?"

"Yeah. Help me up. I want to go outside."

"Percy, that isn't a good idea."

He slid his legs out of bed. I caught him before he could crumple to the floor. His face turned green.

I said, "I told you..."

"I'm fine," Percy insisted. He managed a step forward. Then another, still leaning heavily on me. Argus followed us outside, but he kept his distance.

By the time we reached the porch, Percy's face was beaded with sweat. But he had managed to make it all the way to the railing.

It was dusk. The camp looked completely deserted. The cabins were dark and the volleyball pit silent. No canoes cut the surface of the lake. Beyond the woods and the strawberry fields, the Long Island Sound glittered in the last light of the sun.

"What are you going to do?" I asked Percy.

"I don't know." Percy told me he got the feeling Chiron wanted him to stay year-round, to put in more individual training time, but he wasn't sure that's what he wanted. Percy admitted he felt bad about leaving me alone, though, with only Clarisse for company...

I pursed my lips, then said quietly, "I'm going home for the year, Percy."

He stared at me. "You mean, to your dad's?"

I pointed towards the crest of Half-Blood Hill. Next to Thalia's pine tree, at the very edge of the camp's magical boundaries, a family stood silhouetted – two little children, a woman and a tall man with blond hair. They seemed to be waiting. My dad was holding a backpack that I had gotten from Waterland in Denver.

"I wrote him a letter when we got back," I lied, I didn't really want to tell him it was the only thing on my mind. "Just like you suggested. I told him... I was sorry. I'd come home for the school year if he still wanted me. He wrote back immediately. We decided... we'd give it another try."

"That took guts."

I pursed my lips again. "You won't try anything stupid during the school year, will you? At least... not without sending me an iris-message?"

Percy managed a smile. "I won't go looking for trouble. I usually don't have to."

"When I get back next summer," I said, "we'll hunt down Luke. We'll ask for a quest, but if we don't get approval, we'll sneak off and do it anyway. Agreed?"

"Sounds like a plan worthy of Athena."

I held out my hand. Percy shook it.

"Take care, Seaweed Brain," I told him. "Keep your eyes open."

"You too, Wise Girl." I walked up the hill and joined my family. I gave my father an awkward hug and looked back at the valley one last time.

I put my hand on Thalia's pine tree, then allowed myself to be led over the crest and into the mortal world.

I'd be back next summer. Nothing could keep me away from my family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: i'm so sad this journey has come to an end, but don't worry! Annabeth Chase and the Sea of Monsters chapter one is already up! i hope you guys enjoyed this as much as i did, and i'm so excited to get started on the Sea of Monsters!


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